My ferry reservation is for 9:00 AM on Tuesday. If I leave Monday afternoon I can take my time on the 12 hour drive to North Sydney, Nova Scotia, stay at a cheap motel (or sleep in the car) and easily make the ferry. By 1:00 PM the car is loaded and I head out in the rain. It's a good day to drive. I cross the border into Canada around 5:00 PM and make a stop at Ossie's outside Bethel, New Brunswick, for a clam roll.
Fortified, I push on. The sun sets, though I don't see it in the scattered showers. It's a good night to drive. An idea starts to form in my head. If I keep driving, I might catch the 2:00 AM ferry instead of the 9:00 AM. I have no reservation but there might be room or a cancellation. The worse case is I'll sleep in the car at the ferry terminal. The best case is I'll get to Newfoundland on Tuesday morning at 8:00 instead of Tuesday evening.
The fates start to work against me. I get lost for a short time in Amherst, Nova Scotia, when I exit the Trans Canada highway to get a cup of coffee and can't find how to get back to an on-ramp. Then my credit card company puts a hold on my card when I try to get gas in New Glasgow because I've filled my tank three times in the last 9 hours and it doesn't match my "usual buying pattern". Finally, at 1:00 AM, somewhere between Baddeck and North Sydney, I get pulled over by the RCMP for speeding. I was going 60 miles per hour in a 60 kilometers per hour zone. However, the Mountie is quite friendly (unlike any State Troopers I've ever met in similar circumstances) and she let's me off with a gentle reprimand and warns me that one of her colleagues is waiting further down the road. She also let's me know that I should have no trouble reaching North Sydney before 2:00AM.
At 1:30 AM I pull into the ferry terminal parking lot. The sleepy attendant in the booth tells me I probably won't get on, but takes my money and directs me to Lane 8. I'm the last car in line.
A take a short walk around the lot. Many people are dozing in their front seats. A few stand around outside their cars smoking. The guy in front of me tells me the ferry's full, we probably won't make it on board. At 1:45, the Ferry men show up and start waving flashlights. The smokers ditch their butts, and car engines stutter to life. The lanes on either side of us move forward in fits and starts and then Lane 8 starts to move. I can hear snippets of conversation as the Ferry men radio to the boat reporting the status of the waiting vehicles - "We got two SUV's towing pop-ups and a 24 foot Airstream in Lane 7..." "Okay, send the pop-ups". Like a game of musical chairs, the drivers eye each other as the Ferry men stop the flow from one lane and wave furiously for the next to get moving. Finally, I hear the call from the boat "We got room for two more..." The Ferry man to my left points to me and the car in front and motions with his light for us to go. I'm the last on the ferry. The Airstream and a Semi in Lane 7 kill their engines.
Once on board, the Ferry men draw a chain behind my car and disappear. It takes me several moments to figure out (and find) what I should bring with me to the passenger deck for the evening's cruise. When I do, I realize I'm alone on the car deck. I savor the moment. "I made it!" A Klaxon alarm jolts me from my reverie as the car ramp rises and the bow doors start to descend 20 feet behind my car.
I grab my pack and a small pillow and find my way to the stairs to the upper decks. My short delay has cost me dearly. I reach the sleeping "lounges" - auditorium sized rooms filled with airline-style recliners - only to find most of the seats already occupied with cramped bodies, trying to sleep. I work my way from one lounge to the next looking for an empty seat. Finally, near the bow of the boat, I find a vacant spot in the last row of seats near a hallway and bathroom. The seat doesn't fully recline. In front on me a young boy with squeaky sneakers shifts his feet. Then he shifts again. Then again. A women two rows in front and to my right opens a bag of chips. A large bag. She eats a chip. Then another. And another. The lights go out. Except for one. The one that shines directly into my eyes. It's going to a long night.
