Nothing Constant But Change

Harbour Master Steve greets us when he arrives for work on Friday morning, offering a ride to the gas station and the grocery store.  Along the way he tells us some about the place where we are.

The bay used to freeze in the winter but not so in recent years. The harbour is man made between two very rocky outcrops. Much of the village is occupied by summer residents at this time of the year, with the seven kilometres of white sandy beaches being a big attraction. About 900 people currently call Musgrave Harbour home. He remembers there being over 3000 when he was growing up here.

Steve’s office and wifi is available to me on this rainy day so I am happy to be sitting in the “boardroom” working on this blog while he goes about his business.

Harald attaches our water hose to the one behind the office and fills the water tanks before joining me in the office. 

We have a long conversation with Steve.  He tells us the story of the found fishermen as told to him by the owner of the lost boat.  It was a fire in the engine room, after a smaller fire had been extinguished earlier in the day.

Two of the men were sleeping and could not get into their floater suits before having to escape to the life raft. They believe it all happened in about five minutes.  Everyone we have spoken to about this tragedy says the same thing, “someone was watching out for those fellows”.

We thank him for his hospitality, pay our bill of $40 for two nights and tell him he has a very clean harbour.  He says “I keep things as they should be.” We silently agree, as we are only guests in this commercial harbour.

At 6:00 we walk to Spindrift By the Sea for a dinner recommended by Steve. He graciously called to make a reservation for us, otherwise we would not have even known we could dine there.  The pea soup is as my Grandma Chevalier used to make, with carrots and turnip.

The twenty minute walk back to the harbour is under threatening skies and the rain begins as soon as we get onboard. We will be leaving in the morning, so it seems we have missed another sandy beach.

There is still twenty knots of wind and large waves when we walk to the break wall on Saturday morning.  We are now in the Northeast Coast weather region, but find today the area has been divided into two, with two different forecasts. According to the forecast for where we are,  things will improve about noon so we make some lunch, chat with visiting tourists and make frequent walks to the sea wall.

By 1:30pm we have slipped the lines from the Musgrave wharf and are heading northwest toward the south shore of Fogo Island.  It is cool and windy, with the wind ahead of us, yet again.  We are dressed in our full coastal gear, toques and gloves.  The sea is still rolling close to shore.

We make the turn north around the southwest tip of Fogo Island. The Farewell-Fogo Ferry is sitting at the wharf, cars loading as we pass.  We can just make out the Change Islands ferry heading in to its berth on the south side of Change Islands.  We will not have to divert today.

Change Islands is a 12km long and narrow stretch of land running less than 5km from the west shore of Fogo Island.

The entrance to the channel into Main Tickle, on the northerly island, is strewn with rocks and shoals. Caution is required as we enter the narrow, but well-marked channel. A range sits on shore, ahead, also guiding us. I position the boat so the two range lights appear one above the other.

Fortunately a fellow-sailor from Lewisporte sent us an aerial photo of the new floating docks so we know where we are headed - they are not visible until we pass the little wharf on the north shore.  We are glad there is no other boat along the end as there is only room for one, tucked in behind the stern of the fishing boat tied to the wharf.

This is a late arrival for us but it is very warm, even at 8:30pm. Harald barbecues spareribs and I make a grilled Mediterranean salad. Nobody comes to see us. The notice board indicates the cost to dock is $10 per night, but there are no amenities.

The dock is very new with four small finger docks across from us.  Each contains a small runabout. We feel secure in our new home, even though a bit bouncy when boats pass by in the channel.

The Change Islands are actually two islands joined by a short causeway (road). I believe I have already shared where the name came from: first settlers here spent their summers on the north island (where we are) which was closer to the fishing grounds.  They spent their winters on the treed south island, closer to timber for building and firewood and forest creatures for hunting. Thus they would “change” between the two islands with the seasons.

After dinner I take a short walk to visit the United Church just down the road.  It sits prominently on a hill, surrounded by forest.  It was built in 1896 but today it is quiet - and for sale.  The roof looks brand new but the windows are barely secured in their frames.  A bargain at $159,000 if someone has the talent to refurbish it.

Walking the other direction toward Diamond Rock, I find the Olde Shoppe Museum, now closed but definitely on our agenda for tomorrow.

I grab several photos of the little bays east of the dock.  Each has a name. Seems every house here is white and all the stages are ochre red.  Tomorrow will also have to be a painting day.

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Old Stuff and a Ramble

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A Long and Exciting Day