Saint Anthony & L'Anse-Aux-Meadows

The sun came out for the first day of operations for L’Anse-Aux-Meadows National Historic Site and I rode over on my bicycle to see the place. I did not get to use my newly purchased National Parks pass as the powers that be decided to improve on what was already considered a world class exhibit and have their Visitors Centre off-limits to all but construction personnel in consequence of which the artefacts it holds are not on exhibit and admission to the park is free. A few photos grace the temporary trailer where we met parks staff and in one a buck-toothed urchin named Clayton Anderson rides in a powerboat with the Norwegian who discovered the site. During our tour of the site the adult Clayton tells us of playing Cowboys and Indians among those mounds and of how he and his brothers made daily bread deliveries from his mother’s oven to the Norwegian Archaeologist who explored the site. These kind of anecdotes and his intimate knowledge of the area and unhurried approach to showing us the site made the visit. Once I caught onto the fact that ‘hice’ was ice and got an ear for his priceless accent his commentary was informative and entertaining.

The reconstruction and enactors did their best to demonstrate what life was like over 1000 years ago. Wearing handmade leather shoes, and hand woven wool and linen garments they talked of life in that small colony. A weaver was at work at weighting her yarn after her loom was moved to give a classroom demonstration. In my own home we gave up on growing our own wool when the only carding and spinning mill in Nova Scotia closed, I was to learn that in Newfoundland they have always mailed their wool to New Brunswick. Their fires are propane fired simulations made necessary when real wood fires caused the dried out roof to catch fire in mid-August. The re-enactors don’t miss smelling of wood smoke for the entire season and at least a month afterward. The Norseman Restaurant on the bay was too high-falootin for the likes of me but the light on the bay was magical with streamers of fog drifting near the waterline.





Blessed with two successive days of sunshine I drove the 30 km to Saint Anthony and took the iceberg tour. After two and a half hours of bobbing about on the high seas the earth under me continued rocking most of the remainder of the day. Have you heard of Sir Wilfred Grenfell? A doctor and Anglican missionary he came to Northern Newfoundland and Labrador in the mid-1800’s. Enkindled by the poverty, starvation, and lack of education that confronted him he resolved to do something about it. By summers he and his coworkers toured the Labrador coastlines in hospital ships. He built hospitals on land and in Saint Anthony became a one-man make-work project. There he built a hospital, cottage industries, a school, orphanage and set up a CO-OP to counter the company store mentality. Were he alive today he’d be incensed to hear that the government plans to move the air ambulance away from Saint Anthony. The local waterbomber is out of commision due to rusting wings.



Beside the lighthouse out at the point is an over-priced cafe and gift shop. The 90-ft iceberg we circled is visible from shore grounded in 200 ft of water. The Grenfell Memorial COOP still operates and has an instore bakery. Noted cinnamon spread among other local specialties. Fruit and vegetables are in short supply and expensive. (My raisin bread toast just set off the smoke alarm).

Drove down to the fishing village of Englee yesterday on someone’s enthusiastic endorsement. Had I known I’d encounter the worst pot-holed roads I’ve driven in 50,000 km I’d have gone no where near it. Beauty, it appears, is in the eye of the beholder. At Roddickton I stopped at town hall which doubles as a ‘Green Moose Interpretation Centre’. Along with a mature stuffed moose the exhibits chart the lumbering industry, the great fire that burnt the local mill, the ecology, and moose. The twenty-something lads who posed for the lumbering photos are at pains to show off bulging biceps but would look more authentic with a bit of sweat and dirt on their shirts. I made it out through rock, stunted trees and moose to the Great Northern Highway, 430, without losing a tire or hitting anything.

Port-Au-Choix looked more inviting without the wind, rain and fog cover.



The Visitors Centre in the National Park at the point has 5000-year-old early Dorsett Marine Eskimo artefacts and the wind-blasted landscape that surrounds it bears stunted Tuckamore and ground-hugging avens and saxifrage.

I have no internet access here but can pick up CBC Radio One on my RV’s AV system, a first in Newfoundland but no TV signal. Nothing of interest on either I fear. The forecast was for three days of rain but when my programmed coffee maker awoke me at 6 AM the sun was out and only some high altitude scud in the sky. Since weather changes quickly here I’m not sure it’s worth the effort getting my bike down off its rack for the two days I’ll be here. I can walk over to the local Foodland across the road and once it gets a chance to warm up slightly will probably walk up to check out the harbour area. This it would seem is the Shrimp Capital of Western Newfoundland but the nearest liquor store is in Port Saunders. Anglican Church Service is 7 PM tomorrow, The RC Church being the only other option.