It's a great year for icebergs!

Waterline of Bay Bulls iceberg

The past few years have been exceptional for iceberg watchers. Hundreds of bergs have made their way down the Labrador Current, drifting south along the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador. 2016, in particular, has seen an unusually high number of tabular, or flat, icebergs. This isn't actually good news, since it means that increased numbers of icebergs are calving from Greenland's glaciers, but it's brought some impressive viewing for those who are willing to travel for a look at the results. On a mid-June visit to Bay Bulls and the islands of the Witless Bay Ecological Reserve with Gatherall's Puffin and Whale Watch, we were treated to some beautiful views of a small berg grounded along the south side of the bay. Although it was overcast, enough sun broke through the clouds to create a beautiful shade of blue near the berg's waterline.

An impressive pinnacle berg near St. Anthony

Finding that June iceberg while exploring the Avalon Peninsula was serendipity; however, near St. Anthony there's a good chance of seeing bergs in July and sometimes even into August. A trip with Northland Discovery Boat Tours is the perfect -- and safe -- way of getting a closer look. On a late June trip we encountered two bergs, one sharply sculpted and the other tabular. There were several others in the distance, including a huge tabular berg that appeared to be close to a kilometre in length. If you're lucky, they'll even manage to net a bit of broken ice from one of the bergs and provide a taste of ice that's over 10,000 years old; it's compacted snow from long before Earth's industrial age, so it's about as pure as it gets!

Pinnacle berg coming into view

Large tabular berg

There's still plenty of time to view icebergs in 2016 -- for the latest in sightings, visit www.icebergfinder.com

St. Anthony -- In the Footsteps of Grenfell

St. Anthony Sunrise

Travel down the Great Northern Peninsula (yes, north is "down" here) and you'll find yourself in St. Anthony, the outpost at the end of the road. To be truthful, the road has only been here for sixty years or so; like many small towns around the coast of Newfoundland, this port was once served only by water, as a stop on the coastal boats that plied the island's shores. This community of roughly 2500 people serves as a supply centre for the surrounding area, so there are grocery stores, hotels, restaurants and many other services, but it's St. Anthony's history that makes it remarkable.

Sun Porch, Grenfell House

In 1892, a young and determined doctor arrived here from England; this was then an English colony, and the Royal National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen carried out visits to bring medical care to the people of northern Newfoundland and the Labrador coast, and Dr. Wilfred Grenfell was here to do what he could for his fellow man. He was ahead of his time in realizing that social conditions, nutrition and physical activity were all part of overall health, and he went on to form an organization to raise funds to provide health services in the region. His legacy lives on the present-day health care system serving St. Anthony and the remote coastal communities of Labrador. The International Grenfell Association's headquarters were in St. Anthony and it was here that Grenfell made his home. One of my own favourite aspects of his house is the warm and welcoming sun room that wraps around it.

The View from Tea House Hill

Today, the Grenfell Historic Properties provide an opportunity to learn about this remarkable man through the Grenfell Interpretation Centre, the restored house, and the Tea House Hill Trail which provides wonderful views of the surrounding area. From the Grenfell Dock, Northland Discovery Boat Tours provide whale-watching and iceberg-viewing opportunities with expert interpretation. This area boasts one of the longest iceberg seasons in Newfoundland and Labrador, as well as frequent sightings of humpback whales and dolphins and even occasional pods of killer whales!

Iceberg Near St. Anthony

St. Anthony's harbour is a busy one, with a fleet of fishing boats, processing plants, and a large wharf that accommodates vessels carrying freight. Several times a summer, small expedition cruise ships visit to take in the sights in the area.

Headed for Twillingate and the Bergs!

I got an inquiry this week from a couple wanting to see icebergs in Newfoundland. Could I take them to Twillingate? Absolutely!

With changing weather conditions, the bergs seem to be moving inshore, and there are reports of two bergs at Long Point, very close to the lighthouse. Stay tuned -- I'll be there late tomorrow afternoon and there will be another post then, with photos. Meanwhile, here's one of a berg at sunset, taken from Twillingate a few years ago.

Iceberg Season Drifts Into View

April, May and June are prime iceberg-watching season in Newfoundland and Labrador,since this is the time of year when these northern giants drift south on the Labrador current after spending the winter frozen into the sea ice.  They'll gradually break free as the ice begins to break up, and move with the current to the shores of Labrador and then the island of Newfoundland. Their pace is slow and stately, befitting to the offspring of glaciers, and like most youngsters they move much more quickly than their parents. They move at the speed of the current, getting the occasional boost from favourable breezes if the berg is tall enough to act as a sail. They come in all shapes and sizes, from growlers the size of a cottage to massive,

floating islands of ice like those that calved from Greenland's Petermann Glacier in 2010 and 2012. They heave into view in the distance and inch to the south each day, but changes in wind direction can play tricks: one berg that had grounded on the south side of Bay Bulls (near St. John's) last spring suddenly freed itself drifted out of sight to the north before abruptly changing direction and moving south, ending up in Ferryland by the next morning. Bergs are often at their most spectacular as they begin to break up; the centre of gravity shifts as a result of erosion from sun, wind and water, and suddenly the massive weight of the berg can no longer support itself and a huge section will crack off, or the entire berg will roll and chunks of ice will fly in arcs to the water. It's important to treat these ice giants with respect, but they can certainly provide some wonderful viewing opportunities.

Experiencing the Moment

 For a long time, travel was a popular pastime for those who wanted to see the different, the unusual or the exotic; today, for more and more travellers, it's more about experiencing than just seeing.  Many of us now want to engage all five senses; we don't want the same food, climate or activities we'd find at home, we want something new and different and whenever possible, unique to the place we're visiting. We also like the idea that our travels are benefiting local people in their communities, and that we're meeting and interacting with local residents beyond the rudimentary exchanges found in restaurant or hotel service. 

We're the experiential travellers, and we're the face of travel in the future.  Gone are the "Grand Tour" days when tourists sat removed from their surroundings and simply observed. Today's travellers roll up their sleeves and get involved, both physically and intellectually, with what's around them. It's a new and truly engaged way to travel, and it's had a huge and positive impact on people in the areas we travel to. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this shift is that it's making the whole process more interesting -- and memorable -- for the people in those destination areas, too. 

Local experts are now engaging with travellers in a way they weren't able to before: there's more time to get to know visitors, and shared experiences can form the basis of genuine interest and friendship. I'm not talking about visitors and local operators singing an endless chorus of "Kumbaya", but there's far more opportunity for them to interact in such a way that encourages long-term contact if it's what both parties want, especially with the ease of communication through email, social networking and Skype.

Travellers today experience the wonders of their destination: the smell of sun-drenched fir trees along a woodland trail; the crisp, cool touch of the breeze blowing past an iceberg; the taste of fresh bread straight from a brick oven, the sound of a foghorn across the water, or the electrifying experience of looking a humpback whale in the eye.

A Place Called Salvage

At the northern edge of Terra Nova National Park, Route 310 leads along the Eastport Peninsula to the town of Salvage. This little community is noted for its red-ochre sheds and outbuildings, often reflected in the still waters of its harbour. The name is pronounced with the emphasis on the second syllable: sal-VAGE. Like the other communities on the peninsula, this village was settled in the late eighteenth century by emigrants from the West Country of England who came here to pursue the Cod fishery.  Icebergs are frequently sighted from here in the spring, and in fact they often ground close inshore when conditions are right. Salvage is an especially picturesque little community, and located on the shores of Doctor's Pond are two typical "saltbox" houses that are among the most-photographed buildings in the province. There's something quintessentially Newfoundland about these houses, and they seem irresistible to almost anyone who arrives with camera in hand. I love the smaller details of Salvage, though, like the simple, utilitarian rope latch on a rough-hewn door
or the stacks of lobster and crab traps on the wharves. There's a fish plant that's a bustling hive of activity during caplin or squid season, and a small museum that recreates the life of a fisherman's family within the context of the community, but apart from a post office, few other services can be found here. No matter: a side trip to Salvage is well worth the drive, and the quiet beauty of its simple architecture clinging tenaciously to the rocky shore will find a way to capture the heart.

In an Echo of Winter, a Sign of Spring

Spring comes slowly to Newfoundland and Labrador; that's simply a fact of its geography and climate. When it arrives, though, it brings with it a spectacle that most of North America doesn't have the opportunity to witness: the remarkable phenomenon of sea ice. The ice is almost like a living thing. It drifts in on the combined forces of current, tide and wind, transforming the landscape overnight with its strange and varied shapes. It cloaks the ocean in an undulating mat of

white. Drifting along with the ice are the season's first icebergs, frozen giants calved from the glaciers of Greenland, making their way south after having wintered over on their journey. They sail past regally far at sea, or sometimes venture closer and ground themselves in the shallows like the two seen here at Quidi Vidi in the spring of 2012, when a spectacular sunrise complete with a sun pillar formed a dramatic backdrop. Small coastal communities like Twillingate (top) see their harbours

blocked with ice, often delaying the passage of fishing boats; calm, sunny days, though, bring out an array of reflections that transform the harbour into a place of wonder. The ice might stay overnight, for a week, or even for a month or more; it will depart as quickly as it arrived, drifting back to the sea and leaving nothing but a memory of its passing.

Icebergs, Archaeology and Antlers

Roughly an hour south of St. John's lies the town of Ferryland, site of the Colony of Avalon, established by George Calvert, the first Lord Baltimore. Calvert purchased the land in 1620, and the following year sent out a party of twelve settlers under the leadership of Captain Edward Wynne. Although a year-round settlement was established, when Calvert himself ventured to the area in 1629, he discovered that winters here were much harsher than he had anticipated; he
chose to make another attempt at forming a colony, this time further south -- his heirs founded the first settlement in what is now the State of Maryland. Today the site is open to the public; a small admission charge covers access to a visitor centre with extensive displays of artifacts found during the ongoing archaeological dig. Guided tours acquaint visitors with the buildings unearthed to date, including a cobbled street, various dwellings and outbuildings, and what is
arguably North America's first known "flush" toilet -- the flush mechanism was the ocean tide!

Another hour on the road brought us to the town of Trepassey, where a large, sleek and healthy-looking bull moose grazed in a clearing not far from the road. He cooperatively posed for photos before we moved on across the eastern hyper-oceanic barrens toward St. Vincent's and along the shores of St. Mary's Bay, returning to St. John's for the evening.

A Great Way to Spend an Evening

The call came yesterday evening: "I'm going out to visit the iceberg. Care to go?" Of course the answer was yes, so after a couple of phone calls, a friend and I were on our way south from St. John's to Bay Bulls, headed for Captain Wayne's Marine Excursions on the Northside Road. The Captain himself was waiting on the front deck of the ticket office, ready to fit us with warm jackets for the evening ride. The sun was sinking low in the sky, bathing the scene in golden light. We

boarded Blackfish 1 and headed out toward the mouth of Bay Bulls, where a large tabular iceberg was grounded on a ledge just off South Head. We kept a respectful distance, staying back at least the length of the berg at the waterline. The ice glowed golden in the sunlight, bringing out the textures in sharp relief, and waves roared as they rolled under a small ledge at the water's edge. Streams of meltwater sparkled as they caught the light, falling from its flat upper surface. We

completed our circuit and headed back in the bay as the sun was setting, streaks of pastel pink painting the sky. We returned to the dock and tied up just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. What a perfect end to the day!

It's a good year for icebergs along the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador, with prospects of bergs staying around well into June. An excellent resource to see where bergs can be found and to learn more about how they are formed, how they reach our shores and where they come from, can be found by following this link.

Icebergs and Sun Pillars

On Monday evening a friend called to say that there were a couple of icebergs grounded just outside the "gut" at Quidi Vidi, a small village that's part of St. John's. Would I like to go take a look? I didn't have to be asked twice -- I love the icebergs that work their way south along the Labrador current in spring and early summer, and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see and photograph one, especially in a setting as picturesque as Quidi Vidi. We drove to a point above the village, then walked to the Quidi Vidi Battery, not yet open for the season. The hill gave a commanding view of the bergs in the narrow opening to the small harbour; the two bergs were of completely different

shapes, one flat or tabular and the other pinnacled and looking a bit like a huge white walrus. There were thirty or so people gathered on the point, taking photos or just enjoying the view, but the light was fading fast. We decided to return the following morning to see the bergs in the early light. Serendipity provided the perfect weather conditions for a sun pillar as the day dawned, making for a spectacular scene that was well worth the early start. When an opportunity arose for yet another visit to the bergs that evening, of course I couldn't resist. After a walk to the end of the Barrows Road and a scramble across the rocks, another friend and I joined the watchers on the point and settled in to

enjoy the view and the changing light. We were delighted to see a couple of colourful kayaks head out for an evening paddle, past the bergs and along the coast. While they were gone, the tabular berg shifted on the tide and nearly closed off the opening to the harbour; fortunately there was enough room for them to get past, but the return trip was definitely a bit more challenging than the outbound one. Thanks to those two kayakers for adding extra interest to this beautiful evening!

There is a website that provides location data and background information on icebergs in Newfoundland and Labrador -- www.icebergfinder.com operates during iceberg season and gets its data from both satellite and local observer information.

A Night to Remember

Coming up in just over two weeks is an extremely poignant anniversary; on the evening of April 14, 1912, the luxury liner Titanic struck an iceberg some 365 miles from St. John's, Newfoundland. The liner, built by Harland and Wolff in Belfast for the prestigious White Star Line, was launched on May 31, 1911. She was fitted out with state-of-the-art technology, including a series of sixteen watertight compartments that could be closed by the captain's mere flipping of a switch on the bridge. By Monday, April 1, of 1912 she came under the command of Captain Edward John Smith, who had served with the White Star Line for some thirty-two years. By April 10 she began to take on junior crew members, passengers, and the all-important coal to fire her massive boilers. Among the passengers were Thomas Andrews, Harland and Wolff's managing director, and White Star chairman Bruce Ismay, there to oversee the great ship's maiden voyage.

During her travel from Southampton, Titanic's two radio operators, Jack Phillips and Harold Bride, received a number of warnings of a huge field of ice ahead of them, some of those warnings arriving as early as April 11. Standard procedure was that these warnings would have been logged as received and passed along to the officers on the bridge. Neither Phillips nor Bride was an employee of White Star; instead, they were employed by the Marconi Company and their function on board was primarily to send and receive private messages for paying passengers. On the night of April 14 as warnings continued to arrive, Phillips was busy sending messages to the Marconi station at Cape Race, Newfoundland. Out of frustration at being interrupted at his task by the wireless operator on the SS Californian sending yet another ice warning, he replied via Morse Code, "Shut up, shut up! I am busy; I am working Cape Race!" This message would be quoted later as an example of one of the factors that led to the Titanic disaster -- just fifteen minutes after Phillips sent it, Titanic struck an iceberg in that great icefield. Within hours, Titanic had slipped below the surface taking more than 1500 of her passengers and crew to a watery grave. Incompetence, unpreparedness, and arrogance had combined to create a tragedy that ranks among the worst marine disasters in history and arguably the most famous.

A number of events are planned to commemorate this landmark event; information about those taking place in Newfoundland can be found through Receiving Titanic; events begin on April 1st and carry on through the evening of April 14th, 2012.

Notes from Iceberg Alley

Icebergs. I love the variety of shapes, sizes and colours of these great mountains of ice that drift past Newfoundland's coast in the spring. Most are calved from the glaciers of Greenland, with a few coming from the islands of Canada's eastern Arctic, often spending a year or more reaching the Davis Strait before drifting into Newfoundland waters via the Labrador current. The ice in these bergs is ancient, some of it formed more than 15,000 years ago. Spotting an iceberg in the distance, on its slow, majestic journey, is always a thrill. Sunlight on the white surface of a berg can make it visible miles away on the horizon -- and illuminates the underwater shelves of the berg with an intense, otherworldly glow.

The white or pale blue appearance of most icebergs comes from the fact that the ice is full of air bubbles, but the ice has been formed under tremendous pressure. The dramatic blue streaks that often appear in icebergs are meltwater streaks, or areas where melted ice has re-frozen without bubbles. These darker streaks not only stand out against this pale surface, their rates of melt can be different so as the iceberg melts they may stand out from the surface or appear as deep grooves. Occasional dirty streaks are visible as well, the result of dust or other natural impurities that have settled on the glacier's surface as it was being formed. Bergs are so large that they can create their own micro-climates, causing swirls of mist to form and eddy gracefully around them on the hottest summer day.

It's the shapes, though, that fascinate me. Harsh, jagged surfaces of newly broken ice are sculpted by seawater into soft, fluid forms. Textures may be smooth, pitted, deeply grooved or pebbly, and each surface texture plays new tricks with the light to create unusual effects. A bit of imagination is all it takes to see dragons, griffons, skyscrapers and spaceships. Iceberg season is just around the corner -- they'll start to appear along Newfoundland's coast in April, just as one particular berg did a hundred years ago, for a date with destiny in the form of the Titanic. The season will last, depending on the section of the Newfoundland and Labrador coastline, until sometime in August on average. In 2011, though, there were so many icebergs of massive size that they lingered far longer, right into October. Here's to a good iceberg season. I think a toast is in order -- with an Iceberg beer, of course.