Red Bay, Labrador, August 7, 2017

Red Bay, Labrador, August 7, 2017

As we approached Red Bay we spotted some icebergs making their way through the Labrador straights. These bergs break off glaciers in Greenland and then float south until the warmer water and air melt them. The straight is known as Iceberg Alley. You might have seen pictures earlier this summer of some monster bergs floating down past Nova Scotia. The captain told us that chunks break off of these bergs as they travel with the Labrador Current, so ships give them a respectful, wide berth. (Titanic, anyone?)

Now we're getting up and away from the big cities. Labrador: the size of France but a population of just 28,000 people. Population of Red Bay? 150. The ship anchored a ways off shore (we later learned that the captain was wary of predicted afternoon winds and decided that a longer tender ride was much preferable to a ship drifting onto the rocks.) and we tendered in. It had been foggy on and off en route to Red Bay. When we left the tenders it was raining a bit. I was in long pants with a vest and rain coat. Jim was wearing a jacket but it being August was, of course, still wearing shorts.

This time we decided to take the Lighthouse Journey--a drive along the coast, through little seaside villages, past the Pinware River (a popular spot for salmon and river trout fishing) to Point Amour, sight of the Point Amour lighthouse, the tallest in Atlantic Canada. Once again we were in a school bus, driven by Colleen who drives the children to and from school in said bus. Also along was John, part-time guide, semi-retired chef at a hotel on the coast. As he described himself, an Essex boy from England who's lived in Labrador for 30+ years and was happy to share stories about living in such a remote place, Most incredible? There is virtually no crime. He said he never locks his front door and when he parked his car at the pier that morning he left the keys in it in case someone needed to move it. A native, Colleen knew every pothole on the roads (all two lane) and did a masterful job dodging the deep ones. We did ride a bit on a section of newly resurfaced road and passed the lads and equipment that were supposed to be working on some more roads. It's an hour and a half from Red Bay to the ferry terminal for the three hour ride to Corner Brook and the nearest traffic light!

Alas, the weather did not cooperate very much vis a vis the scenic coastal drive. We were in and out of fog, mostly in, the entire way. However, the lighthouse was quite impressive. It's automated now, but the exterior of the lighthouse and surrounding buildings (where the lighthouse keeper and family lived plus signal operators who received and sent telegraph messages overseas) have been restored to the 1850s look. One could climb up 128 steps to the top for a panoramic view but this one opted to stay behind and look through the buildings and little gift shop and enjoy a slice of Partridge Berry (Lingonberry) Bread baked by the host's wife. It was a bit rainy but it was a beautiful site. The wild flowers were in full bloom and a good sized iceberg had grounded itself right in front of the compound. Small chunks had broken off and come ashore. I asked the host with the bread if they ever took the ice to use and he said, "Oh, yes. It's very pure, thousands of years old and the tourists get a big kick out of cocktails poured over ancient ice." One of the guides there told us that when they had first arrived that morning to open everything up an active pod of humpback whales was also right out front putting on quite a show of breaching and fin slapping. One of our group claimed to have seen a whale while we were there but I can't confirm. The water was pretty choppy with white caps at that point making it very hard to spot them.

It was a good hour each way, but we enjoyed the experience. We wished we had had a bit longer to visit the whaling museum at the harbor and have fish and chips at the neighboring cafe  but the last tender was at 2:30. Do not want to miss that! Riding back to the ship we bumped along, splashing through the seas but nothing too bad. The tenders land on the leeward side of the ship, which protects from the wind but not so much the up and down motion of the sea. Still when we arrived back the ship's engines were working to hold her in place.

We did learn later that the captain had stopped the tender service TO shore earlier when the winds had started to kick up. He wanted to get everyone who was already ashore back aboard rather than send more to shore and then have to get them all back, too. He constantly must make these game-time decisions for safety's sake. Needless to say, this is a boat load of intrepid travelers who take these changes in stride. It gives everyone a chance to tell about the ports they came close to visiting but not quite.

As is our custom we go to the Crow's Nest up top (on deck 9) and forward for a cocktail and then down to Deck 4 and the dining room for dinner at 8. Usually there would be a lot of people up in the Crow's Nest doing likewise and a lot of people eating 8-ish, but the staff outnumbers the customers at the bar at 7 and nearly the same in the dining room at 8. We asked our waiter what was up and he explained that on shorter cruises there is a balance between young and old passengers. The older ones like to eat earlier (at 5:30!) and the younger ones later. However, on the long trips, there are a lot more seniors than juniors if you will and they all want to eat early and then go to the early show (8 pm) in the showroom. This means the kitchen and dining room staffs are running in circles for the early birds. It also means that the showroom can't handle the demand for the early show soooooo they are going to shift the show times from 8 and 10 to 6 and 8. Old people don't like change so this should make for an interesting experiment! It also means that I will have to cut short my afternoon nap and be dressed and ready to roll at 6 instead of 7. (Refer back to Old people don't like change.) Jim, of course, is always ready an hour early so this means nothing to him.