Just got back from my second visit to Newfoundland, affectionately known as “The Rock”. Get out your maps. This glacially scoured island lies halfway between Boston and Greenland. It’s got a tough-luck history that would leave most people bitter or at least depressed. But Newfoundlanders are survivors. (Just a quick note to say I’m using the word Newfoundlanders in this post, because there’s chatter online that the term “Newfies“, which the people of Newfoundland call themselves is thought of by some to be a derogatory term if used by outsiders. Outsiders, by the way, are called “CFA’s” or “Come from Away” ) There’s an amazing can-do, pull yourselves up by the boot straps mentality here that’s inspiring.
The reputation that Newfoundlanders have as the friendliest people in Canada (and that’s saying something, as I think Canadians in general are pretty darn friendly) and the funniest, is well deserved. There’s beauty abounding in the great expanses of space in Newfoundland which I’ll leave to the travel writers. Instead, I’ll focus on, what else, the quirkiness, of which there is plenty.
It’s a hard scrabble place that makes up in makes up in humor and friendliness what it has lacked in luck. And the humor shows up in all kinds of places, starting literally with geographical names.
There’s at least 5 different terms for coves and harbors, and they’re tacked onto place names in a way that make reading a map of the province sound like snippets of song lyrics: Witless Bay, Trinity Bight, Chance Cove, Conception Harbor, Random Sound. And that’s just a smidgen of the long list of curious and evocative place names. You just want to visit towns named Paradise, Blow Me Down, Joe Batt’s Arm, Spread Eagle, Come-By-Chance, Happy Adventure, and Little Heart’s Ease.
I doubt that any tourist has driven the Baccalieu Trail in eastern Newfoundland without stopping to taking their picture in front of the sign for the town of Dildo or their informative museum,the Dildo Interpretation Center.
There are deniers among the town folk that the name has any sexual connotations, but really…
Dildo is just south of the towns of Heart’s Desire, Heart’s Content, and Heart’s Delight. It’s a happy peninsula.
This lovely gal is just up the road from the Interpretation Center, and I would say she does look content:
Up the coast a stretch, on over to Fogo Island I encountered this more anxious looking duo:
And there’s plenty to be anxious about in Newfoundland. First and foremost the disastrous collapse of the Cod fisheries in the 1990’s devastated the province’s economy and threatened the heart and soul of the Newfoundland culture. The material signs of the collapse are everywhere–a terrible, poignant beauty:
Looks like the prevailing wind blows the opposite direction in the town of Cupids:
Abandoned boarding houses in the once thriving town of Port Union, the only union -built town in North America, birthplace of the Fisherman’s Protective Union, the first labor organization for fisherman.
There was a Pompeii feeling to this deserted home in the village of Baraneed. Wide open at every orifice: The collapsed roof filling the space of the stairwell,
Skeletons of beautifully handcrafted punts like beached whale remains:
And fishing vessels dotting the landscape yearning to be ocean-bound:
Yet amongst the collapse are beautiful signs of re-building:
This may be a small thing, but I really love all the hand painted signs one sees along the road.
You’ve got a board, you’ve got some left over house paint, you’ve got a brush, go for it:
This lovely sign for Mr. Bully’s Meat Room in Petty Harbor:
topped off with this window above: (Could this be Mr. Bully?”)
The next level up in signage: carve something that’s going to outlast anyone’s memory of what was not to be denied on “No Denial Path”:
Or give the most talented guy in town a chance to flex his or her creative muscle:
And hey, you don’t always need words to get your point across:
Here and there I encountered folks making their mark on the landscape. Az in Hibbs Cove (shown here with his wife Lorraine) who made excellent use of the tree that died in their yard:
And up the same peninsula, in Port-de-Grave we stopped to chat with Matt who was adding a fresh coat of paint to his impressive built environment.
An incredibly handy man, Matt fabricated all his own crab traps, which stacked up and stored away for the winter were a beautiful site to see:
(seen here with my artist colleague and collaborator, Antoinette Winters.
Matt hired a Twillingate artist (sorry not to have caught his name) to paint this beautiful portrait of his father and himself on the bow of his vessel:
Port-de-Grave was one of the only fully active fishing towns we saw–and it’s crabbing that’s keeping these fishermen in business.
Speaking of crab, when Antoinette and I went to the Independent Fish Harvesters to buy crab for dinner, we discovered that the minimum order was 20 lbs, a bit much for two for dinner! When we expressed disappointment, Graham said, “Wait a minute ladies” ducked into the freezer and emerged with one of the twenty pound boxes which he promptly sliced open. Turns out he was breaking into his own box that he had set aside for his family for Christmas. Our protests fell on deaf ears.
When we took out our wallets, Graham said “You don’t owe me anything”. “What do you mean?” we asked. His reply, “This is Newfoundland. All you want is some fish for dinner. Anyone in Newfoundland would give you that. You’re not asking for twenty pounds–just a little fish for dinner, You don’t have to pay for that.”
Ok, so, didn’t I tell you at the beginning of this post, Newfoundlanders have got to be the nicest, friendliest people on earth?
And even their digitally printed signs are pretty great: