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.

Playing the Hand You're Dealt

A long-planned excursion to the town of Twillingate this weekend turned into an object lesson in the difference that attitude can make. The trip was scheduled to take place over the Victoria Day weekend; Victoria Day is a Canadian holiday that is now celebrated on the Monday prior to May 24, the actual anniversary of her birth in 1819. In Newfoundland and Labrador, the holiday has a largely undeserved reputation for bringing what could most generously be called interesting weather, but this year it came through in fine fashion. Snow began falling on Saturday evening, and continued all day Sunday in Central Newfoundland, dumping some 58 cm (roughly 22.8 inches) in the town of Gander. At Twillingate, on the coast, accumulations were not as great, but there was a good coating of slushy snow on the roads and streets, and steady snow in the air.

At the Harbour Lights Inn in Twillingate, a motley crew of travellers from many parts of Canada showed the best possible reaction to an event like this one -- they took it in stride. Laughter filled the air, and all the guests in the nine-room inn carried on with their plans to explore the area. It wasn't just the hardy crowd at the Harbour Lights who showed this kind of moxie, though. Throughout our exploration, many other travellers could be seen taking photos, enjoying a meal at a local restaurant, or taking in the sights.

By the time the storm ended on Sunday, an iceberg had drifted into view on the horizon and there were already groups visiting the viewing area near the lighthouse at Long Point to catch a glimpse of it, and to marvel at the rime of ice that had formed on the nearby tuckamore as a result of the combined wind and icy spray.

According to Environment Canada, this is the first time in over ten years that there's been significant snowfall in Newfoundland on the Victoria Day weekend; we've come to expect wonderful weather at this time of year, but this year we got fooled. When this kind of unexpected event arrives and plans have already been made, we can feel conspired against and cancel, or we can roll with the punches and make the conscious decision to enjoy life as it comes. On an occasion when a few grumbles might have been expected, there wasn't a single complaint to be heard. Full marks to this weekend's visitors to Twillingate for playing the hand that fate -- and the weather -- dealt them.

All Around the Circle

Among the many folk songs that belong to Newfoundland and Labrador, one of the best-known and most-loved is "All Around the Circle", collected and transcribed by two folklorists, Kenneth Peacock and Gerald S. Doyle. It probably originated in the late nineteenth century, but didn't become popular outside the province until it was popularized in the book Folk Songs of Canada by Edith Fowke and Richard Johnston in 1954. The three communities in the song, Fogo, Twillingate and Moreton's Harbour, were all fishing communities located on islands along Newfoundland's north-central coast.



To listen to the song performed by Newfoundland and Labrador band Ryan's Fancy, click here.


I's the b'y that builds the boat
And I's the b'y that sails her
I's the b'y that catches the fish
And brings 'em home to Liza.

Chorus:
Hip your partner Sally Thibault
Hip your partner Sally Brown
Fogo, Twillingate, Moreton's Harbour
All around the circle!

Sods and rinds to cover your flake
Cake and tea for supper
Codfish in the spring of the year
Fried in maggoty butter

I don't want your maggoty fish
That's no good for winter
I can buy as good as that
Down in Bonavista

I took Liza to a dance
Fast as she could travel
Every step that Liza took
Was up to her knees in gravel

Susan White, she's out of sight
Her petticoat wants a border
Old Sam Oliver in the dark
He kissed her in the corner.

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.