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.

Silver Thaw or Shelagh's Brush?

It's all in the timing, I suppose. In Newfoundland and Labrador, there's a belief that St. Patrick's Day brings with it a storm, usually one of the last significant storms of the winter. It's a deep-rooted tradition within the Irish-descended population in particular. The occurrence of a storm within a day or two of March 17 was so common that the storm came to be known as "St. Patrick's Storm". A lighter, less snow-laden storm occurring soon after the St. Patrick's storm soon became "Shelagh's Brush" -- the identity of Shelagh (or Sheila) has become a bit murky over the years, with some people referring to her as St. Patrick's wife while others think of her as his mother or even his housekeeper. The light snow of Shelagh's Brush was said to be the result of Shelagh taking a birch broom to the corners of the heavens in a spring-cleaning frenzy. Somehow, through the passing years, the two storms have merged in the collective psyche of Newfoundland and Labrador and now, the big storm on or about St. Patrick's Day has taken on the name of the later, less severe storm. This year, whether it belongs

to Shelagh or to the Saint himself, has packed a punch and created havoc with airline schedules. Instead of a few hours of snow, St. John's received several hours of freezing rain that glazed every surface in sight. Streets, sidewalks and parking lots became skating rinks early this morning, and the city echoed with the sound of windshields being scraped clean of their thick coatings of ice. The streets are clear now, and as the temperature rises the glittering burdens of trees and shrubs are clattering to the ground. One of the most common sights around town at this stage is a throng of intrepid

photographers bundled against the cold and rain, capturing the effects of the storm before they melt away. Whether it's the work of St. Patrick or Shelagh, whoever she might be, or just a "silver thaw" provided by Mother Nature, it's certainly beautiful in its own way; and in a place where the weather is often the first topic of conversation, it's certainly given everyone something to talk about!

Peggy's Cove -- Off Season

March decided to come in like a lion in some parts Nova Scotia, bringing with it a nor'easter that made travel conditions miserable and dumped the winter's first real load of snow on the southwestern corner of the province. Typically, the northeasterly winds that give these storms their name bring with them temperatures close to the freezing point; ironically these relatively mild temperatures are what can make a nor'easter deadlier than a storm that brings colder conditions. When it's near the freezing point, snow is heavy and wet. It doesn't stop at coating the ground in slippery white, it

clings to vertical surfaces obscuring road signs, weighing down power lines and trees, and it's so wet that it can saturate clothing instead of falling away as dry snow would. It's heavy and treacherous to walk through, it reduces visibility, and it's difficult to shovel, too -- emergency room workers call it "heart-attack snow".

This early March nor'easter was followed by a warm front -- again, typical -- that brought with it lashing rains and high wind. A spur-of-the-moment side trip to Peggy's Cove revealed a whole new side of the village's personality. On a soft summer day, the winding road into the village is busy with cars, and

curious visitors walk along the roadside taking photos or visiting the gift shops. On a day in early March when it's barely above freezing and raining sideways, there's a bit more elbow room. There are still a few hardy souls who make their way to the Sou'Wester Restaurant for a bowl of chowder or some warm gingerbread; the restaurant is open every day except Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and there are almost always cars in the parking lot. That soft summer day certainly has its appeal, but there's definitely something to be said for a visit on a bracing day in March when you can see the bones of the place -- the simple, stark beauty that made this such a popular tourist attraction.

A Grim Anniversary

Valentine's Day may be a day when people's thoughts turn to love and romance, but here in Atlantic Canada it has another, very different association. Late on the night of February 14 and in the early hours of February 15, 1982, an event took place off the coast of Newfoundland that will forever trigger memories of tragedy and loss. The semi-submersible mobile oil rig Ocean Ranger, deployed to drill an exploratory well seeking subsea deposits, had a crew of 84 on board. At the time it was the largest semi-submersible rig to have been built.

Winters on the North Atlantic can be unpredictable, and violent storms can develop literally overnight as weather systems merge. Although we'll never know exactly what happened on that awful night, some things are clear: one of the rig's portlights was smashed; this would allow water to pour into the ballast control room. The rig eventually developed a serious list and was abandoned. Of the 84 crew on board, the bodies of only 22 were recovered.

Thirty years later, I still remember hearing the news broadcast on CBC Radio while driving through Doctor's Cove, NS, and the sense of disbelief over the subsequent few days as the extent of the disaster became known. Early on, there was a faint hope that some of the crew might be found alive; that hope faded quickly as the extent and force of the storm became apparent.

Newfoundland songwriter Ron Hynes penned the song "Atlantic Blue" about the tragedy:

What colour is a heartache from a love lost at sea?
What shade of memory never fades but lingers to eternity?
How dark is the light of day that sleepless eyes of mine survey?
Is that you Atlantic Blue? My heart is as cold as you.

How is one heart chosen to never lie at peace?
How many moments remain; is there not one of sweet release?
And who's the stranger at my door to haunt my dreams forever more?
Is that you Atlantic Blue? My heart is as cold as you. as you.

I lie awake in the morning as the waves wash on the sand
I hold my hurt at bay; I hold the lives of his children in my hands.
And whose plea will receive no answer? Whose cry is lost upon the wind?
Whose the voice, so familiar, whispers my name as the night comes in?
And whose wish never fails to to find my vacant heart at Valentine's?
Is that you Atlantic Blue? My heart is as cold... My heart is as cold... My heart is as cold as you.

© Ron Hynes


Wikipedia's entry on the Ocean Ranger can be found here.

The 84 men lost on that terrible night were:
Jim Dodd
Derek Escott
Cyril Greene
Derek Holden
Rick Sheppard
Frank Smit
Daniel Conway
Terrance Dwyer
Fred Harnum
Randy Noseworthy
John Pinhorn
Dennis Ryan
William Smith
Woodrow Warford
Tom Hatfield
Arthur Dagg
Kenneth Chafe
Gerald Clarke
Douglas Putt
Gary Crawford
Norman Halliday
Wayne Miller
Gord Mitchell
Perry Morrison
Greg Caines
Wayne Drake
Cliff Kuhl
Robert Wilson
David Chalmers
Robert Howell
Robert Fenez
Jack Jacobson
Robert Madden
George Augot
Nicholas Baldwin
Kenneth Blackmore
Thomas Blevins
David Boutcher
Wade Brinston
Paul Bursey
Norman Dawe
Thomas Donlon
Joseph Burry
Leon Droddy
William Dugas
Domenic Dyke
Andrew Evoy
Randell Ferguson
Ronald Foley
Melvin Freid
Carl Fry
George Grandy
Guy Garbeau
Regineld Gorum
Capt. Clarence Hauss
Ron Heffernan
Gregory Hickey
Robert Hicks
Albert Howell
Harold LeDrew
Robert LeDrew
Michael Maurice
Ralph Melendy
Ken O'Brien
Paschal Joesph O'Neill
George Palmer
Clyde Parsons
Donald Pieroway
Willie Powell
Gerald Power
Donald Rathbun
William Smith
Ted Staplton
Benjamin Kent Thompson
Craig Tilley
Gerald Vaughn
Michael Watkin
Robert Winsor
Stephen Winsor
Robert Arsenault
Darryl Reid
Greg Tiller