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: