Generosity

Last Friday we loaded the car and headed east - destination a small farm in Cormack, Newfoundland. We don't relish long car rides, however, they always give us a chance to just sit and talk. It's rather hard to hold a position other than sitting for too long in a car and there are not many podcasts that don't generate some sort of discussion. Honestly, “Sit and Talk” suits us just fine!

A topic that comes up often for us is "Generosity".  Our experiences this spring have been so amazing because of the generosity of others. This trip to Newfoundland has already had been improved by so many wonderful people. 

Leonora, a good friend of Gayle's live and teaches in Belleville. When she heard that we were travelling, she immediately offered up the Margaree Cottage in Cape Breton for us to stay along the way. This was very nice especially because we also new that would give us a chance to see her father - Leonard. He is retired fisherman who has a thick Acadian accent and who although he is in 80's still has a quick wit! We have enjoyed his company a few times over the years and it was going be nice to see him again.

We knew it was lobster season and had planned to pick up 2 along the way and queried Leonora about the best why to secure them on the way. She would have none of that! 

When we arrived to Leonard's, he had been to the dock in the morning, purchased 5 lobsters and cooked them using his special method especially for us! This was enough for dinner and for lobster rolls for lunch on the ferry the next day!

When the ferry landed at Port Aux Basques in Newfoundland it was 6C and raining. We are pretty sure that it there were some wet snowflakes mixed in. Our original plan had been to camp for the night at a nearby provincial park. As we watched the town approach we could see people bundled up and we thanked the stars for Melanie and Bernard. 

This couple lived in Belleville and moved to Isle aux Mort (close to the ferry dock) 5 years ago so Melanie could be closer to her large family - who still mostly live in this little fishing village on the southern coast. We hadn't connected with them for a few years, but decided to reach out to see if they had time for a coffee. Without hesitation, they generously offered to put us up for the night. Given the weather, we were so glad that they did.

We arrived to a warm dinner of fresh trout and great stories. Bernard gave us tour of the town and told us the history of the place while pointing out every sister's-cousin's-daughter's house along the way! Breakfast the next day was pretty much restaurant quality and probably tasted even better because we were not waking up in a soggy tent!

We cannot begin to count the times that we have been supported by the generosity of others. Our friends and neighbours at home who are watching our house or filling in for our responsibilities, the good folks we've met along the way (far too numerous to count) and re-connected old friends have reminded us how impactful it is to give to others. 

San Jo

When we first arrived at Bryce and Myra's, they were giving us suggestions on what to see and do. They both agreed heading out to Cape Scott Provincal Park was a must. After tossing around possible options in the park, we decided a 2.6 km easy walk in to San Josef Bay, where there would be tent sites, bear caches, and compost toilets, was the winner. We'll tackle the 26 km hike to Cape Scott next time! 

And it seemed as though we had made a good decision when at dinner one night Myra said, "Did Bryce tell you San Jo is where we got married?" Umm, what? I guess if you and 120 of your closest friends are willing to drive 2 hours on windy, bumpy roads, then hike 45 minutes through the forest, it must be a pretty special place.

Our adventure to San Jo definitely ranked number 1 in our North Island adventures, and that's saying a lot given all of the amazing sites we explored. 

Our two day excursion started where else but  the Port Hardy grocery store, to buy what other than a tomato, a bag of chips, and a 6 pack of ... danishes. Being well supplied (again mostly from Myra's pantry), we started driving west on the road to Holberg. Bryce gave us driving instructions: pull over for experienced locals (faster drivers), use the pull-outs when you meet a logging truck, watch for potholes, make sure you have a spare in case you get a flat, and the 60 km will probably take about 1.5 hours. Holy crap - maybe we should drive the excavator if its that bad!

Along the bumpy, gravelly, dusty way, we found the stops Myra suggested. The Shoe Tree was the first. It's a massive tree with piles of shoes on and around it. It was started many pairs ago when a hiker, returning from Cape Scott, nailed their mud soaked, irrepairable hikers to the tree. This tradition kinda caught on and now Google maps even recognizes it. A snazzy pink Crock caught Gayle’s eye, but unfortunately there was no mate. Sad 😔. 

Thank gosh Gayle’s tears had dried by the time we arrived at the Nahwitti trailhead as we had a massive Sitka Spruce to find. After about a 10 minute walk and 100 beautiful trees, we found it. Pictures don't do it justice. This tree was massive, and as it towered above, it had such a powerful, calming effect. It truly was magnificent.

We clamoured back to the car, passed through Holberg, and carried on to find Ronning's Garden. Back in In 1910, Norwegian settler Bernt Ronning established a homestead near the uncompleted San Josef Wagon Road. While most local settlers eventually abandoned the area, Ronning remained until the early 1960s, hunting, trapping, fishing, and clearing over five acres of rainforest. There, he built his house and created a dream wilderness garden using exotic seeds, cuttings, and plants ordered from around the world. It was wild to find daffodils, rhododendrons, and monkey puzzle trees in the middle of nowhere!

Our next stop was the penultimate - the Cape Scott Provincial Park parking lot. We were a wee bit shocked by the 30+ vehicles, and optimistically convinced ourselves they were not destined for San Jo Bay. We hoisted up the loaded back packs, honestly dropped our $10/person camping fee in the slot, and hiked down the trail. Forty-three minutes later we were greeted by an expansive sand beach that skirted a gorgeous bay. Hello paradise!

There were several available tent sites available, so we chose one with a sheltered fire pit, a table, and a fantastic view of the ocean. We did manage to reno the site with a few upgrades: bench seating, extended table, dry firewood, and a well positioned tarp. Bear Grills would be proud!

That afternoon we explored the sea stacks, but the real prize came the next morning when we were able to investigate the tidal pools and Beach Two at low tide. Myra had tipped us off, so we felt a bit like locals when we spotted and named green anemomes, sea stars, limpets, barnacles, and rock fish. That feeling rapidly faded as I scrambled over a rock, looked up, and saw a black bear about 20 m away. Trying to be calm, I told Paul, grabbed my phone, and snapped a quick pic, as Paul called out, "Hey Bear", like Bryce told us to do. We stood our ground, facing the bear, as it slowly ambled toward the shoreline, and what seemed like toward us. Pretty sure my heart rate was 150 bpm, but to be honest, the young bear wasn't interested in us. If anything, it was annoyed we disrupted its breakfast hunt.

We explored the shoreline some more, collected fresh water to filter, carved our spoons, and of course ate our egg and chip sandwiches and danishes. On our drive home, we made a celebratory stop at the Scarlet Ibis in Holberg, the most remote pub on Vancouver Island. If you're ever in the area, get the chicken wings and fries. Seriously, they were no joke.

Our trip to San Jo was a definite highlight of our explorations on Vancouver Island. And unlike the road biker and SUV we passed on the way home, we avoided the dreaded flat tire. 20 km/h paid off!

A Moment in History

For one of our final adventures we decided to hike to the wreckage of Dakota 576 which crashed in 1944.

We drove about 15 minutes to the end of highway 19 - close to the ferry terminal that leads off to Prince Rupert. From there it's a moderate 30 minute hike up a road and then rooty up hill trail to the crash site. 

The plane and its three crew were on a training flight in poor weather conditions and missed the airport. Soon after they ran out of fuel and crashed into the side of the hill outside of Port Hardy.

When arriving at places like this, I am always struck by the emotional impact.  First, the plane is huge and remarkably well preserved - it immediately so feels out of place. It’s hard to describe having conflicting feelings of instant sadness and wow “this is cool” at the same time.

As we approached we saw a small cenotaph that identifies the Airmen and some details about the incident. It’s shiny stainless steel and sits in stark contrast with the weathered industrial aluminum shell of the fuselage.

Learning the names of 2 service men who died made me reflect on the tens of thousands of people who served during the wars and other conflicts. Many, like these two, never made it to battle, but took risks so great that it’s hard to even imagine.

We explored the wreckage, identifying the various wings, engine parts and tail fins. Each step a moment in time. Having been at another crash site few years ago, it was had not to compare.  We were happy that this one has not been plundered even though there are many small pieces that could easily have been carried out. 

A view from the side over the wing

From the back (tail wing missing)

Although the destination ended with some somber thoughts, I was glad to have experienced them and reminded myself of why we should all be proud to be Canadians. 

This is what the Dakota 576 would have looked liked in 1944.