Mahone Bay

 

Traveling in Nova Scotia is not like driving on a Toll Road Perry Texas Highway where the speed limit is 85, that's miles per hour pardner. Too often with a high profile vehicle one watches out for encroaching brush and tree branches. Tire eating potholes, uneven patches, one-lane-bridges, sharp curves, steep hills, and even dirt roads. Highway construction is done in summer. Even on expressways traffic is often two-way and the curves are left in and the hills can be very steep. This is to say that it takes longer to get there on these kinds of roads.

My trip this Thursday, June 18 was on the Route 3, until the construction of HWY 103 the main road from Bridgewater to Halifax and along the South Shore heading South-West all the way to Yarmouth. In the 60ies I traveled it by school and commercial bus and even once or twice by car. Patronage being what it is how recently certain sections have been repaved tends to depend upon the constituent's voting patterns. Wake-up Hill with its sharp curve left at the top of a blind hill is particularly memorable.

I left Lunenburg on the Kissing Bridge Road. The covered bridge that would have given this road its name has not existed in my memory. Much of the route winds through alder, birch, and swamp. Finally one gets sight of Mahone Bay and its reputed 365 islands and around a bend in the bay a glimpse of the famous three churches: Anglican, Lutheran, and United. Along the waterfront is public parking and even a civic washroom, clean and well appointed.

As I was to discover, they don't roll out the sidewalks in Mahone Bay until 10:00 AM so I found the Biscuit Eater Cafe closed. Tim Hortons was open and even has a drive-through window but I can visit one of those anywhere in Canada. Jo-Ann's is a combination gift shop, fruit stand, emporium, bakery, and tea house and it was open to browse but... ...I decided to wait it out.

As billed The Biscuit Eater Cafe was a book-lovers paradise with new and used books, self-serve coffee, and tables located amid the stacks. Staff were warm and helpful. My on request breakfast omelet came with biscuit and jam and a delightful salad. I'll go back when I visit next year.

Shopped the area boutiques and picked up a colourful print by Paul Hannon, right:

Back at my Van I was charmed to find the South-Shore Mobile Library parked on the Bay Side Lot. 

 Paused to capture a close-up of the churches though this combo slights the Angican Church.

Drove on to Hubbards to find camping. Walked out to Hubbards Beach but even the gulls weren't braving the wind-swept whitecaps. The cabins here look exquisite. Watched a carpenter drown a fish burger in Ketchup at the canteen. Sat in my home on wheels and used the Wi-Fi to catch up online.

Lunenburg

Visiting Lunenburg evokes childhood memories of a drive in our old Ford pickup at 25 MPH the twenty miles from home to pay our yearly taxes and visit the relatives on Kaulback St where children were expected to be seen and not heard. I probably made the trip from Falmouth in the same amount of time.

Its designation as a World Heritage Site ensures that little changes in Lunenburg though the sign on old HWY 3 directing one to “New Highway”, 103, has finally come down after 4 decades.

After its protracted refit the twenty-million-dollar Bluenose II is finally undergoing sea trials. No word yet on what further adjustments it may need before it's ready to take on the public. It is a beautiful ship engendering the proud tradition of Lunenburg Seafarers. An eight-sided compass-shaped monument honours the hundred ships and many more men lost during two and a half centuries of the Lunenburg Fleet going down to the sea. The most recent entry was for 2014 paying mute testimony to the fact that seafaring remains a profession fraught with danger. One of the two 1935 entries is for Harris Oxner whose wife saw her husband, the captain's ship return to port from her 'widows walk' with its flag at half mast. Men lost at sea leave behind no earthy grave a grieving widow can visit. She with her daughter moved back into the home in which she grew up living out her days with her maiden sister. Hazel and Edna suffered the indignity of having devastating hurricanes bear their names.

Once more I'm camped at the Lunenburg Board of Trade Campground. The crew of a movie, The Healer, being shot in town have taken over the upper level but save for one other motorhome I have the lower level overlooking the back harbour to myself. It is quiet save for the hum of two generators above. I took advantage of a beautiful sunlit day to wander the lower harbour section of town.

First stop was the Ironworks Distillery where Chester the orange tabby stray with a rumpled ear and unbalanced head adopted them last November assuming the run of the place and greeting patrons ever since. His new dark rum was not to my taste but home bound I picked up some Apple Brandy, a rather fiery brew.

The Cape Rouge was moved to the Bridgewater Wharf after sinking in Lunenburg, (it serves as Duke's boat in TV series Haven). The rest of the harbour area has various working vessels under service with pride of place given to the Bluenose II and her entourage. Various companies offer whale watching—minky whales this time of year, deep sea fishing, harbour tours, and sailing excursions. Finally the two ships of the Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic. There I found a come back from away who engaged me in chat for several hours. I forget his name but he lives across the harbour on the road to the golf course near the home he grew up in.

Dropped into Foodland for raisin bread and to look for fish. Given its location the place stocks very little fish but I picked up some frozen breaded haddock for supper. I was seeking some fish paddies.

After supper wandered over to the Mariner King to meet my tour guide for the Haunted Ghost Tour of Lunenburg. Since I proved to be the only guest the part owner and I spent the rest of the evening swapping lore. Superstition marks the life of a sailor as the sea remains uncontrollable and unpredictable. The former owner's wife haunts the now Boscowan Inn as a naughty poltergeist. Peter Mailman was hung outside the former Lunenburg jail after bludgeoning his wife with an axe on a trip to the woods to pick berries. Various superstitions influence architecture including identical back and front doors so built to confuse the devil who enters only from the back door. No trip to Lunenburg is complete without a visit to St. John Anglican where seventeen people lie buried in the basement crypt. No knowledge remains as to the reasons for so honouring those given this resting place. They range in age from infant to seniors. The other icon of Lunenburg proudly stands on the height of land as it has since it was built for $30,000 in 1885—The Lunenburg Academy. The basement washrooms were termed the dungeon by students who feared to go there. Many students walked to school through the adjoining cemetery still accepting the dearly departed. A view of the coming conjunction of the planets Venus and Jupiter in the early evening sky marked the end of our tour. I was even give a ride back to the campground.

Spent a quiet night after a shot of brandy and awoke Tuesday morning to a brief ray of sunshine. No fog but rain is predicted to be on the way. I need to get dressed and go in search of a plate of fish patties and chow chow.

Walked uptown along Montague St in search of same, in fact walked all the way to the end past the French Cemetery. When I did find them they were well-browned but lukewarm, the chow chow was over-sweet and the accompanying Caesar Salad had one lone crouton. I'll eat in tonight.

I yielded to the temptation to pick up a very bright print of the Lunenburg Waterfront. Bought myself a pair of Blunstones, definitely not a casual purchase but I needed new shoes and the price was right.

Stopped at Adams and Knickle for fresh Scallops fresh off the boat yesterday--$11/lb. Met Chester the cat out for a prowl. Out to visit a regular customer he had no time for me.

At 3:04 still no rain. When it came the fog horn started as well but contrary to predictions it was a gentle sprinkling that lasted overnight and cleared for a beautiful Wednesday.

After clearing up what proved to be a minor engine issue—a gas cap jarred loose by rough roads I drove off to visit the Olde Sod in Midville Branch. As the saying goes, you can't go home. I am not the lad who departed in 1967 and home has changed inexorably. Most of the people I grew up around I can visit in the cemetery.

Falmouth

Visiting Falmouth is about spending time with family rather than doing. I get barked at by the dachshunds but otherwise consider myself at home and part of the furniture. Always pleasant to have someone else do most of the cooking. Sitting on the verandah reading or watching TV when the dogs are quiet. I did get a chance for a swim in the pool whose base I helped put in place last year when I visited and a shopping trip to Sobeys in Windsor to stock up on a few supplies. One of my sports is checking out what is and isn't available in a certain area and what local can't do without items have pride of place. Red Rose Tea shares prominence with Morse and King Cole but they actually had a few varieties of Twinings loose tea. Sheer volume confirms Maxwell House as Canada's favourite coffee, it was on sale. I found Tancook Sauer Kraut sharing space with rival Krisp but no turnip kraut. As you head East bologna becomes more widely stocked and the chubs bigger and bigger. I do not go for Newfie Steak but its popularity is obvious. I did find everything on my shopping list.

Leaving Saint John

Seemingly Saint John is sad to see me depart as in honour of my last day here we are being treated to a monsoon. 

Sunday Morning made it to Trinity Anglican for 10:30 Service which saw the interim pastor absent and a guest speaker, a second year Seminarian giving the sermon. An integral part of the service is coffee in the Bennett Room, a social event that engendered noisy conviviality. Trinity has a failing Allan Electronic organ that contains transistors long out-dated by modern integrated circuits. When purchased to replace a pipe organ in need of repairs that pipe organ that still famously performs in Charlottetown, PEI could have been restored for the same price. Anyone who knows me understands what a tragedy I consider that to have been. I sat and chewed the fat with an amiable confederate.

In the afternoon attended a backyard BBQ at the home of a mutual friend. Met a gentleman with the surname Hebb who grew up on the Newcombville Rd in Wileville, Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia. We had an interesting chat comparing memories.

In the evening went to Compline which was followed by tea at Tims. On our return ran into J-P, Jean-Paul, the pastor of Stonechurch and Trinity.

Monday was quiet occupied with making sure my engine battery is healthy and topping off my house batteries. Spent considerable time reading David Goss’s latest book on Saint John.

Made the unwise decision to have dinner at Lily Cafe here at Rockwood Park. Suffice to say I have resolved never to repeat the mistake.

Today, Tuesday finished the book on Saint John and am looking out at the rain. I’m glad I did those chores yesterday. There’s a small lake building outside my windows.

My friend and I broke bread together one last time and I retired for the night to the patter of rain. Overcast but only misting fog Wednesday Morning as I dumped my holding tanks before departing.

Gassed up in Sackville, the payment system at the pump malfunctioned, nothing new, fuel $1.17.9/L. The gang at the NS Welcome Centre were not welcoming but Jacob the piper in full tartan regalia is back to pipe travelers into Nova Scotia once more. The Halifax Chronicle no longer supplies complimentary papers.

At the Coboquid Pass was charged the $4.00 car rate and next stop was Masstown Market. A double scoop of Grapenut Ice Cream was $3.40. The raisin bread fresh from the oven. Loaded up on That Dutchman’s Gouda, Maple Syrup, Honey and a few preserves.

I left a foggy Saint John and after Moncton hit high winds. The windfarm at Tantramar Marsh was busy whirling away and has grown considerably. The Sun was out when I reached Elm River and the flies had arrived. I dozed in the afternoon sun and was attended by mosquitoes and silence otherwise overnight. I did not miss the noise from Irving’s trains.

End of Life Care

From my point of view the issue here is the fact that philosophical and ethical discussion has not caught up with medical science. I have been listening to podcasts in which Dr. Brian Goldman discusses issues surrounding DNR or No Codes, (Do Not Resuscitate), in the case of terminally ill or dying patients.

In the first place if your loved one dies at home do not call 911 as paramedics are obligated to apply CPR and Defibrillation unless the body is obviously dead--rigor mortis has set in. In a world where it is possible to sustain life in the absence of brain activity or any viable quality of life the issue of using extraordinary means to sustain life indefinitely becomes an ethical and emotional issue.

Lost in all the emotional baggage is the fact that death is a natural and inevitable part of life. Hospitals and Medical professionals seem to feel it is their bounden duty to fight death at all costs. Too few live out their elder years at home or are allowed to die at home in their own beds surrounded by loved ones.

In a hospital setting staff are by default required to run a code blue if a patient stops breathing or their heart stops beating hence the DNR designation. Resuscitating a patient who will inevitably die within minutes, hours, days is cruel, painful, and adds no quality of life to the individual.

When a patient is terminally ill, in pain, or not expected to recover having to ask relatives to authorize a no code at a time of deep emotional trauma is a matter of asking for a decision when the decision maker’s mind is not capable of rational thought. Failure to resuscitate is not euthanasia, it is allowing the body to undergo its natural processes and it does not equate with failure to care for the patient or to do everything possible to make their final hours as comfortable as possible. 

In the absence of home care and the opportunity to live out one’s life in a multi-generational setting Hospice Care for those nearing the End of Life is preferable to a hospital setting. I’m personally uncomfortable with the recently coined term Death Midwives.

Saint Martins

The Caves

My Mother would have been scandalized to learn that we drove 70 miles round trip for a bowl of fish chowder. Saint Martins is a former fishing port that is restyling itself as a tourist destination. This is a quaint village, not a theme park. The road from Saint John passes through rural enclaves along wooded roads and nearer the coast steep hills. Having picked a day without fog sunshine was more than we could hope for. Our seats on the restaurant patio had to be towel dried but the view of the sea caves was worth the effort. Having arrived an hour before high tide we were not able to walk out onto the beach for a close-up view.

Saint John without fog

Saint John

After a full week of fog and rain seeing the sun come out two days hand-running is an almost orgiastic experience. It was still wintry cold overnight though but it will warm up to 65 tomorrow. Came to Saint John to spend time with a friend and that’s pretty much what we’ve been doing. Being in one anothers company is more important than being entertained. We have shared mutually prepared meals and lots of conversation. We have wandered the streets of Saint John on foot and by car. We’ve looked over:

The Imperial Theatre
King’s Square
The Loyalist Burial Ground
The City Market
Brunswick Square
Market Square
The Harbour
Various Streetscapes

Gone for a Pedicure
Walked Rockwood Park
Toured the Jewish Museum
Worshipped at Grace Presbyterian
Had Pizza at Vitos

Trinity Anglican