August 11th, morning
Fogs and the Unique Campobello Ferry – Leaving the Island
Mary is getting on the road and is actually intending to lock the house. I fast-pack everything in the back of the Chevy, aiming to reach the earliest ferry to the mainland. Even as she was rushing, I still succeeded to sneak in a hug. She accepted gracefully and thanked me for the presents. It was impossible to give Rachel the hug she deserved, as she was carrying a plane in one hand and some wood in the other.
I was planning to follow Mary’s recommendations for NL: two days from Fundy to Breton, a night ferry and a day’s drive to the park. But first – Fundy!
I left the car at the line for the dock, took the camera and went to the shore. Fogs have a compelling power over my imagination and perception. Everything in fog is transformed, transmuted, magical.
I still remember visually, sensually, the fogs descending majestically down the green tropical mountains surrounding Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. Everything would transform into a mystery where past, present and eternity merge, as the fogs shrouded the colorful costumes of the pueblo Indians and the tropical flowers in their confusing wooliness.
So here I was, at the water’s edge, expecting the unknown.
Then a solid object started to emerge out of the cotton wool like Earth forming out of the nebular cloud – the Campobello Ferry.
The Campobello Ferry was a physical technological oddity. I’d been to plenty of boats before, but had never seen anything like this. We drove the cars onto a flat raft, without an engine or a body. Then I saw that the raft, or the “car-carrying part” was actually conneceted to an engine via a super strong metal rod. The entire thing was propelled forward from the side…
Befuddled by the mechanics, I took one picture after another, and a video, hoping to understand that bizarre contraption:
The trip itself was nice and relaxing, but what followed was not too much. We landed on another island called “Deer Island”. I expected it to be small and non- inhabited, but found out it was actually fairly large with villages strewn all over it. Everybody seemed to know exactly how to get to the next ferry, but I got lost. Instructions were supposed to be simple, something like “Go straight and follow the signs”, but “straight” for me is a relative term, open to interpretation, and signs were elusive or non-existent. Clearly there was a trick somewhere. A nice fisherman saw my travail and re-routed me to the main road. I got to the departing ferry in the nick of time at the end of the line.
Through the persisting fog we saw porpoises, seagulls and cormorants.
Fogs and Storms – Destination Fundy
Fogs can be the announcers of a perfect storm. Even driving I could not resist the beauty of the accumulating clouds:
The fog developed gradually into an on-and-off rain. Following Mary’s recommendations I found the village with a bank and a gas station, equipped myself with Canadian money and a full tank. Using Google and the cruise control, I navigated to an almost empty four-lane road #1, and from it to #114 towards Fundy. At St. John’s I tried in vain to find a cellular lab that would solve the problems with my battery, but nobody ever heard of Huawei phones. You make do with what you got, an important law of travelling.
So, onwards to Fundy National Park.