Sunday, July 20, 2008

The Piano Movers

Every year, Joan's Steinway piano makes a two-mile trip down the road to a small meeting house where it's used in a local benefit piano concert. After two days, it's returned. In New York or Chicago or Los Angeles, these moves would be done by highly trained professionals and would cost several hundred dollars. In New Hampshire, things are different.

Positioning the truck Walter, a veteran of many of these moves, positions his pickup so a ramp can be placed from the tailgate to the porch step.

Aligning the ramp
With a bit of final guidance from the crew, the ramp is set in position.

The gentle descent
With a gentle nudge (and the big guy on the down slope) the piano begins its descent to the porch.

The first turnNegotiating the turn into the kitchen door.

Threading the needle
Lining things up for the big push into the kitchen. Can three big guys fit through this doorway at the same time?

Squeeze play
No.

Getting ready for the flip The tilt The roll The settle
The big moment. Set, tilt, roll and settle.

Attaching the last leg
Attaching the last leg requires trust in your crew.

Final adjustmentsMaking final adjustments.

The piano moversUntil next year.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

The Trip Home

After our time at Cape Saint Mary's, we head north to Argentia to catch the ferry back to Nova Scotia.

Aboard the MV Smallwood
The sun appears as we drive north along the coast of Placentia Bay. But when we board the MV Smallwood, the fog is hovering literally feet from the bow before our departure. The ferry is still running on only 3 of its 4 engines, so the trip lasts 18 hours instead of the usual 16. We kill some time watching Bug and Debbie Greene's show of bastardized Newfoundland folk songs and rude jokes (which Jude enjoys) before spending an uncomfortable night of fitful sleep on the floor of the "TV lounge".

One is the loneliest number The Smallwood arrives in North Sydney, Nova Scotia around 9:30 the following morning. After watching the ship dock, we head down to the car deck. As I get in the car, I notice the interior dome light is on, shining dimly. "Did you just turn this on?" I ask Jude. "Um, I don't think so" she replies. A few moments later, cars all around us start their engines as the bow door swings open. I gingerly turn the ignition key. The starter makes a weak "click, click, click" and then quits. A crew member walks down the line of cars in front of us signaling each to leave. I hop out of our dead vehicle and simple say "Dead battery". Without missing a beat, he skips past us and signals the cars behind us to go around us. Soon we are the last vehicle on the car deck.

The car starters After five minutes, two crew members stroll up. "Dead battery? Okay, truck's on the way." Jude pretends she doesn't know me. A Marine Atlantic pickup appears at the bow door and pulls up next to us. I return to the drivers seat. The crewman hooks up jumper cables and, with the loud thrumming of the car deck ventilation fans drowning out his words, pantomimes for me to try and start the engine. The engine cranks and starts. After thanking the truck driver, we drive off the ferry, waving to the remaining car deck crew hanging about the boarding ramp. We spend the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon driving around the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island. By 5:00 PM we reach Margaree and stop at the local information center to ask about places to stay. Unlike Newfoundland, all the B&Bs in the area are already full. We finally find a cabin to rent, the last available, in the town of Troy, about 50 miles distant. As we leave the info center, Jude spots a notice advertising a Ceilidh - a Celtic dance and music gathering - from 6 to 8:00 in Mabou, just down the road.

AJ - a freindly fellowThe ceilidh is at the Red Shoe Pub and as we pull up we see the small building is packed. We park away's down the street, not sure if we really want to endure a crowded pub. Just then a dozen or so folks leave, so we decide to at least have a look. A gentleman at the door greets us, apologizing for how crowded it is. He explains "I have no separate tables open, but you could sit with AJ - he's a friendly fellow."

A favorite of the waitressesThe musicians are on a short break when we take our seats and I introduce myself and Jude to AJ. He returns my introduction in a thick Scottish brogue that I can barely understand. He than flags down a waitress and orders another Alexander Keiths. He's obviously a favorite of the wait staff.

Ceilidh musicians
The music resumes and it's truly something to behold - just a pianist and fiddle player, but what a sound. AJ leans over and tells us "They'll be dancing soon." Sure enough, a few moments later, a dozen or so patrons get up, push a few tables aside and begin a little step dance in a circle in front of the musicians.

Our guide to Celtic musicAfter the dancing the musicians take another short break and AJ explains who's who and which musician is from where, and who'll be traveling to Scotland next month to play at which festival and who just returned from England and so on and so forth.

Ceilidh at the Red ShoeThe fiddler and piano player return along with a snare drum player for another round of music.  AJ keeps the beat with a steady thump of his foot under the table.

AJ and JudeFinally, 8:00 rolls around and the music ends with a loud round of applause. Jude and I bid farewell to AJ and head down the road to our cabin. The next day we return to the US and our complicated lives. It's been a great trip.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Cape Saint Mary's

Cape Saint Mary's Our last two days in Newfoundland were spent in the area around Cape Saint Mary's, the nesting grounds of 24,000 northern gannets, 20,000 black-legged kittiwake, 20,000 common murre, and 2,000 thick-billed murre.

Kittiwake nests The birds' nests occupy nearly every ...

Murre nests ...square...

Bird Rock ...foot of flat space on the cliffs and sea stacks at the Cape. The sight is spectacular - as is the smell.

Gannets 
The other spectacular thing about the Cape is how close the birds are, with many nests less than 30 feet from convenient perches for viewing. The birds don't seem to mind the attention.

Cape Saint Mary's And they get a lot of it. This is one of the most popular viewing spots near Bird Rock, a 300 foot sea stack covered with nesting gannets.

Jude watches razorbill
Jude selects a somewhat less popular perch to study some razorbills.

Gannet flyby If 30 feet isn't close enough for you, you can simply look up and wait for a gannet to fly by a few feet overhead.

Gannet with nesting material This one is returning with fresh nesting material.

Gannet Rock The Cape separates the cold waters of Placentia and St Mary's Bays. When the wind is onshore in the summer the fog rolls in. The wind is often onshore and the Cape sees over 200 days of fog per year.

Birdwatching in the fog Fog can make bird watching difficult...

Landing gannet .. but it can give a photograph a nice atmosphere.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

A Visit to Cape Race

The road out to Cape Race is only about 15 miles long. Because it is hard to go over 10 miles an hour, it takes a long time to traverse it. After our whale watch trip, we headed down to Portugal Cove South and, at about 4:00 in the afternoon, started down the road to Cape Race.

Rocks at Pigeon Cove It was a foggy day, and we stopped a few times to peer at foggy rocks on the edge of the foggy sea.

Cape Race Light
By the time we reached the lighthouse, it was 10 minutes of 6:00. The small visitor's center looked closed, but immediately a black car pulled up and a woman, two teenage boys and a black dog hopped out, unlocked the door and hustled into the building. This was Viola, her son, his friend and their dog Ringo. We were their first visitors of the day. They had spent the afternoon at the lighthouse keeper's house a short distance down the road and had hurried over when they saw us pull up. A sign in the visitor's center listed two options: a tour of the telegraph room (this was the location that had first received the Titanic's distress calls on it's fateful voyage 96 years ago) or a tour of the lighthouse. At the bottom of the sign the visitor's center's hours were listed: 9:00 AM to 6:00 PM. Viola asked what we'd like to do. I said, "Well, I'd like to see the lighthouse, but it's 4 minutes to 6, I guess there's no time."

Now, if this had been a tourist spot in Maine or probably anywhere else in the US or Canada, Viola would have replied, "Yup, you're right, please come back tomorrow." Instead, this being Newfoundland, she said "Oh don't let that worry ye dear! You've driven all the way out here and I can't let you leave disappointed!"

Cape Race Light - looking upShortly, Viola was unlocking the door at the base of the tower. As we stepped in she asked "Ye aren't afraid of heights are ye? It's 86 steps to the top." The stairs spiral upward along the inside wall of the tower with no visible means of support.

Cape Race Light - looking downGoing up the stairs one concentrates on the next step without noticing the height. However, once you reach the top and look down, it's hard not to get a little vertigo.

The lightroom at Cape Race
At the top of the stairs we entire a low-ceiling room and climb a short, steep red staircase to the light room above. Above us, the giant fresnel lens of Cape Race Light rotates slowly. It's surprisingly quiet with only a small electric motor humming beneath the lens structure. "The whole lens mechanism is floating in a channel filled with mercury - so there are no bearings to wear out." Viola informs us.

Tour of the lightI ask if I can climb up on the catwalk that circles the inside wall of the light room. "Of course!" replies Viola. As I climb to the catwalk, Viola turns to Jude "And ye can climb up this ladder and stand inside the light if ye like. Just be careful, some people get dizzy with the lens rotating round them."

Jude in the lightJude, somewhat prone to motion sickness, tentatively climbs up into the light.

Inside the lightAfter admiring the view from the catwalk, Jude and I switch locations and I climb up into the light. I comment that the actual bulb doesn't seem all that bright. "The lens do all the brightening" Viola informs me.

View from Cape Race LightAs we get ready to start our descent, I notice a short red door on the outer wall of the light room held shut by a large turnbuckle. A length of rope is tied to it's handle. "That leads to the outside catwalk." Viola tells us "I can't let ye go out there today, because it's too windy. But since you've come so far, I'll open if ye like so you can get a photo." It takes a few minutes for the three of us to un-crank the turnbuckle and release the door handle. As we open the door a crack, the wind catches it and it suddenly swings open with a bang. After I snap a few pictures, we use the rope to pull the door shut and hold it while Viola tightens the turnbuckle.

Camping at Cape RaceAs we descend the tower stairs, we ask Viola if there is anyplace to camp back in Portugal Cove. "Oh, ye can camp anyplace" she opines "even out here. No one will bother ye!" And so we select a small grassy gravel pit a short distance from the lighthouse, and its foghorn.

Cape Race Light When we wake the next morning, the sky is still foggy and gray, but by the time we've prepared breakfast, a few fleeting patches of blue sky are visible through the thinning fog. By the time we're packed, the the sun is shining and we finally get a good view of Cape Race Light.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Watching Whales

We spent a very stormy night at another bed and breakfast in Saint Michael's, one of my old haunts in Newfoundland. The B&B sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean and in the morning, when the rain stopped, we had our breakfast looking out across the bay watching whales spouting below us and occasionally breaching off in the distance. The owner of the B&B, Jerry Colbert, also ran a small whale watching operation. So after breakfast Jude and I decided to take a trip.

At 9:00 AM we drove down to the wharf in Bauline Harbor and, after a few minutes, Jerry pulled up. Jerry built the boat himself (and, by the look of the bow, had recently repaired it).

Jerry motored out of the harbor. We were joined by Pete and Cheryl, a friendly couple from Ontario who were also staying at Jerry's B&B.

Jude, descended from a long line of Cape Cod whalers, knew how to batten down the hatches on a windy day.


The sea was still rough from the storms of the past few days. Cheryl braced herself in the bow while she got her sea legs.

Pete Rather than trying to stand in the bouncing bow, Pete took up a bench position on the port rail.

Cheryl and Jude Cheryl and Jude scanned the horizon for any sign of whales.

View from top of wave From the top of a wave we had a good view of the ocean around us.

View from bottom of wave With the boat in a wave trough, the view was more limited.

Humpback fin Despite the limited view, a humpback whale made its presence known with a pectoral fin display.

Humpback fin Another view from the top of next wave.

Humpback pectoral fin slap Surprising everyone on board (except Jerry) the humpback slapped the water with its fin.

Humpback fin
Displays and slapping of the pectoral fins are apparently done by males to impress females.

Pete and Cheryl Pete, perhaps feeling threatened by the displays, moved up to the bow for a better look. We circled the area for an hour or so while the whales cavorted.

Heading back to Bauline Eventually, Jerry turned back towards Bauline to pick up the next group scheduled for a tour. But as we neared the small harbor's mouth we had a nice treat...

Humpback

Humpback

Humpback A young humpback surfaced and dove just in front of the Ocean Adventure.