Monday, July 4, 2011

Bill & Ed's Excellent Adventure...Day 19...Sunday, July 3, 2011...Whale-Watching!











Another great night of sleep...very nice to sleep in a bed after two weeks of sleeping in a tent. Brenda's got coffee going again this morning...and cereal for breakfast.
Around 10:00AM, we set off on a two-hour drive to Brier Island, where we'll be boarding our ship for a day of whale-watching.
Along the way, we make a stop or twp...another "postcard perfect" lighthouse...another interesting view. Around 1:30PM, we arrive on Brier Island, purchase our tickets, board our ship, and off we go. It's a foggy day, but that seems right for this part of Atlantic Canada...it's also a little chilly on the water (good thing that I've brought my sweatshirt as well as my windbreaker).
About forty-five minutes out, we see our first whales...magnificent humpbacks. They crate a "froth" in the water, then dive down for minutes of time to feed. I'm getting some good shots with my Cannon 35mm, but it's tougher with my digital camera because there's a delay between the time that I push the button and the time the picture is actually taken. So...I've got a lot of shots of the water where a whale WAS a few seconds before. Still, I get a few good photos.
Brenda's got a great digital Olympus, and she's got some marvelous shots of the whales, birds, the sea...you name it. We're out and about with the whales for well ovr two hours before they turn the ship around and head back to port. Then it's a ferry, short drive, ferry and a long drive before we reach the town of Weymouth, where we stop for dinner at a little family restaurant. Ed's feeling a little "queasy" after our voyage and the twisty drive, so we stop and rest for a few minutes before going in for dinner. It's a nice little place, and one of Brenda's former students, Amber, is our waitress. I order a late of the best fried clams I've had since The Clam Box in Ipswich, Mass. I even get a gra little slice of coconut cram pie for dessert.
After dinner, we stop in to see Brenda's husband, David, who is ending one of their other properties. He's a nice fellow, and we enjoy a cup of tea and some good conversation bfore getting back on the road to Tusket.
Back at Brenda's, we're all beat...it's been a long (and fun) day. We struggle to stay up for awhile, but it's a losing battle...it's already close to midnight. So...off to bed after another exciting day.


Ed's Sidebar, Day Whatever, Maybe 15:

Maxim 3 of Camping: Anything you cook will be more difficult than ever.

Maxim 4: Always keep your powder dry--talcum powder, chili powder, foot powder.

Maxim 5: Equipment will fail only when you need it.

Maxim 6: Do not wear white for camping even if you are a virgin.

Prince Edward Island. We go back in time now, full reverse...where we can see the future. On the other side of the dunes is the beach where the warm Gulf Stream passes into the Arctic. A weak binding of sea grass holds the dunes. We camp near the dunes. We will cross a bridge before we arrive. Our blood will be warmed today.

After the rain we stood around, drinking beer and dancing with mosquitoes. The disco ball of stars had gone out, but we kept dancing in the dark.


Ed's Sidebar, Day 16:

Corollary to Maxim 1: If something is where you think it is, it is mis-packed.

Maxim 7: No plan is ever complete, no plan is ever simple, get used to it.

startled by a raven's scream
so close, so early--
why?

Ed's Sidebar, Day 16 or 17 (essentially July 1):

Happy Birthday, Canada!

Leaving PEI toward the ferry and Nova Scotia, we encounter blackbirds. Blackbirds cover the caisson islands of an abandoned bridge. Above them rules one bright seagull on his lamp post throne. It looks like the CIA has been here.

South of Charlottetown we pass more horses and cows, churches and cemeteries. Everything is in its place, and the road to get there is good.

An alien light overtakes us. Fearing abduction, we hurry on. Strange omens begin to appear. The colorful lupine flowers begin to disappear at roadside. The road itself deteriorates. Our path becomes steep, unpredictable. The thin mist turns to fog. Fog becomes denser. A large flock of blackbirds rises from the pavement, half to the left, half to the right as we rush past. For miles we see no one. We are alone in our murky underworld when an Irving Gasoline truck appears from nowhere, barreling through an intersection ahead of us. Its gasoline can light up the fog. A wild hare from Alice in Wonderland bounds across our road. Instantly the fog lifts, the road improves. We break into the clear, our ferry boat ahead--Charon at the oars?


Ed's Sidebar, Day 18:

I woke up early. One of Brenda's cats was sitting on my chest. It was her eight year old, Gollum, his face framed in the greenery of sunrise outside. "Morning," he was saying with a purr when he sneezed into my face. For an instant I was a Norman Rockwell painting. I was a gangly boy with the twisted face and flailing arms. But in that catalytic mist of Gollum's sneeze, I was actually Tom Sawyer, the boy again at the bank of a river, below the rapids, a loon in the distance. Such is the inexplicable power of a full-contact sneeze in the face.

Yarmouth is a crowd compared with the wilderness we have known lately. Yarmouth has an edgy side that recalls its fishing-industry past, rough-looking and a tumble of stormy glances. Yarmouth also has a side that enchants with its prior-century of sights and sounds. The boats, the water, the tides and fog. The ramshackle buildings and antique country music. Everywhere the friendliness of the people is exceptional.

Here it is sea 'scawllops', darling, not scallops. It is 'Charleton', not Charlottetown. Soon we will be in Newfound'land', not Newfound'lund'. When in Rome, speak Roman, eh?


Ed's Sidebar, Day 19

The ocean water off Bier's Island is 42 degrees in July. Who says this is not the Arctic?

The humpback was on a collision course with out boat. "We're going to need a bigger boat," said Bill.

The eye of a whale is nothing to dismiss. His tail in the air means he's diving deep--deep enough to ram us from below, then batter our boards, Captain Ahab.

Even the seabirds try to land on the HMCS Humpback.

You have to see a whale up close to sense how huge it is. But just think, at twice that size, there once were carnivorous lizards of the deep. Beside which we are a snack. What do you think of your muscles now, Mr. Football?

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