Today I’m sharing bits and pieces about this beautiful province.

First, Newfies pronounce their province to rhyme with “understand”.

They speak very quickly with one another and slow waaay down for “come from away” people.

Our whale and iceberg watch guide told us a lot can be conveyed with a wink and a quick sideways shake of the head. He said it brought a tear to his eye when his 2 year old son did it. And you must be able to wink and shake in both directions!

That reminded me of riding in the Nebraska Sandhills in the pickup with Uncle Vince Glaser, a man of few words. He’d raise his left index finger off the steering wheel when seeing an oncoming car or pickup. I never knew if he knew everyone we passed, but he always said “hi”.

A multi-use phrase is “yes, baie” (pronounced “bye”). Kind of like “well, bless your heart” in the American south. Meaning is all in the tone and inflection.

Here’s a sample of what it can mean:

You are full of it!

Yes, isn’t it terrible!

Tell me more!

Yes, and that’s all I want to talk of it.

The trees struggle to grow in the poor soil, short growing season, and strong winds along the coast. A three foot tree can be 150 years old. A grove of the stunted trees is called a Tuckamore forest.

A company called Dark Tickle has a whale watching business, as well as a restaurant, jam and tea business, and craft shop. We RVers were guessing the meaning of their name, and some guesses were rated R. It’s the name of a local strait between an island and the mainland.

We learned that a body of water surrounded by land on 3 “sides” is a bay, a bight, or a cove depending upon the size of it.

We saw dozens of gardens along the right of way. People create gardens in the peat along the road for root vegetables that do well in the cool moist weather. They locate their gardens inland because there’s less wind and 5-7 more degrees inland.

This setup started after the provincial government built lots of roads in the 70s and 80s. Before that most people got around by boat or dogsled.

Since most people heat their homes with wood, they create huge wood piles along the road to cut, store, and dry it.

They have to buy a permit and affix their permit number to the pile. Very few post their number.

It must be for their own consumption. I suppose a business pays more for its permit.

The cycle takes a year. Cut in the winter, dry in the summer, carry it to your home the following winter to burn. And cut some more.A waitress said some have to drive (snow mobile or 4 wheel drive) 30 minutes to get the lumber that they cut into smaller pieces.

I never got a pic of the sleds they use. Think a wooden Radio Flyer wagon with wooden runners with the front ends curved up instead of wheels.

A Viking is a violent subset of be the Norsemen. A corollary is Pirates are a subset of the Englishmen.

The provincial flower is the carnivorous pitcher plant. It makes sense because it grows and thrives in poor (nutrition) boggy soil, as do the Newfies.

Here’s their moose warning sign. Very humorous.

Finally, when a store has a wide variety of things for sale the Newfies say “it has everything from a baby’s fart to a clap of thunder”. Very salt of the earth.

Today, July 9, we were steeped in Norse history. We started at Norstead, a living history site.

This non-profit’s pride and joy is a 54 foot long x 16 feet wide x 8 feet deep wooden ship named the Snorri. It was built in the early 1990s as a full scale replica of a Viking ship.

Back 10 centuries ago, the 35-45 man crew lived and slept on the open deck. The incentive was to hug the coasts, get onto land to hunt, cook and pitch tents to sleep.

It was sailed to Norstead in 1998 with a 9 man crew. They took 87 days to get from Greenland to L’anse aux Meadows and had a lot of troubles, we were told by the chieftain of the village.

Built with old tools and old ways. The oakum for the seams was sheeps wool coated with pitch. Red hot rivets bonded the planks to each other. Treenails (wooden rods hammered into place with a small woodem wedge splitting the end to make sure it stayed snug) bonded planks to the structural lumber.

Snorri was the name of the first Norse/ European baby born in Newfoundland. Children’s books feature Snorri.

The building over Snorri is not authentic. They just needed to protect it from the harsh winters. We were told it will never sail again.

This rudder held with line gave them a lot of trouble.

We wandered across the field of games: axe throwing and a lawn game like croquet called Kubb. There also was a fire ring and seating to relax. In the background are two buildings built into the hill with grass covering all.

Next we visited the village smithy. It was so dark I didn’t take any pictures. He said all smithys died of black lung disease by the age of 30. Apprentices started at the age of 7.

Next, we went to the home of the blacksmith, occupied by his wife, a daughter, and a relation of some sort. The wife told us that several of the village men had concubines.

She wasn’t sure if her husband had one, but if he had one and if she gave birth to a boy, she (the wife) was expected to rear him/them as her own.

The grey blob at the end is a clay oven. The bowl with the white towel was the dough she had made for fry bread. She said yeast would have been gathered from the edges of the fermenting Mead.

This is one of the sleeping platforms with skins set upon it.

The iron helmet is worn with the flat rectangular piece protecting the nose. One lady hefted it and reported that it was incredibly heavy.

Finally, a young woman showed us this game. Like Chinese checkers, you can jump over your opponent and capture his piece, but other times you can only slide one space over.

This game was not developed in the Scandinavian countries, but would have been adopted because of contact/trade with other cultures.

Built on the edge of the Atlantic, the village had beautiful views.

My next post will be about L’Anse aux Meadows, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I thought I might share some pictures of our day-to-day life on this 49 day caravan tour.

We are rig #15 and one of two first time Fantasy Tour customers. Half of the couples met two years ago on the Canada-Alaska Fantasy tour and resolved to go on this tour together.

There are four fifth-wheel trailers (large “pin” caught by a horseshoe-shaped hitch — the type that over-the-road truckers use), two class B’s (think Mercedes campervans), and the rest are Class A’s (motorcoaches).

Here’s a pic of the smallest rig in our group. I think it is about 20 feet long. The couple is from California.

Our Wagon masters have led this tour three times before now. They came directly from leading a caravan tour of New Zealand and Australia, so they know their stuff!

Our Tail gunners have traveled on their own through the Atlantic Maritimes, so they are a great resource also. They have led other Fantasy tours, just not this one.

Currently, we are staying at a small sea-side campground run by the Lions Club on the west coast of Newfoundland. There are 22 spaces, and we 21 couples take all but one.

We have 30 amp power and water at each site. Unfortunately, the voltage is low. (Only 108 volts are guaranteed here in Newfoundland, but most appliances want closer to 115-120.) Our rooftop heat pump wouldn’t run this morning, so we ran the furnace with propane.

Tonight Roy reported we had 102 volts, so that’s why the microwave and power in general have been wigging out.

We parked the truck in front of the trailer, as is the norm.

A motorcoach owner will park his/her “toad” (a car or jeep towed behind) in front as well.

We have bikes to ride for errands or recreation.

This little trailer (without the PVC handle) attaches to the back hub of Roy’s bike. The handle allowed us to get groceries yesterday by walking across the highway to the sad little Foodland.

I can’t “picture” the sound of the surf, so you”ll have to supply that yourself.

Tomorrow we travel 138 miles north along the “Viking trail” to a campground north of St. Anthony. Then Tuesday we tour the oldest preserved and partially reconstructed Viking settlement in North America. I hope to get some great pictures to share.

Of all the stories we have heard on this trip, the story of the deadliest American slave rebellion (approximately 55 white men, women, and children were killed) haunts me.

Roy and I watched “The Birth of a Nation” last year (the new version) and immediately put Southampton County on our itinerary.

On April 7-9 we stayed in Southampton County to see if anything remained from the 1831 events.

We started in Franklin, VA, but the Visitor Center had no information. One lady gave me the name of the president of the local historical society. That gentleman said to visit with Rick Francis, Southampton Circuit Court Clerk in Courtland, VA.

Rick’s ancestors survived the killings, and he has made it his mission to preserve as much as possible the few artifacts remaining. He is hoping to create some memorial markers on the spots he sent us to.

In the Records Room of the courthouse is reputedly Nat Turner’s hatchet. I don’t recall if the manacles were used on him.

Mr. Francis recommends this book for more information.

Mr. Francis also recommends Patrick H. Breen’s “The Land Shall Be Deluged in Blood“, Oxford University Press, 2015.

The hanging tree is gone now. Here’s a print of what it looked like.

And here’s the yard the tree used to be in.

National Geographic interviewed an archaeologist who found human remains alongside a road just a few paces from the former site of the hanging tree. They are marked by pink utility flags now, awaiting a marker. It is fairly well established that they are slave remains.

When the two day revolt was stopped by the militia, white retribution started with a vengeance. An untold number (innocent and guilty) of African Americans were lynched with no due process.

Nat Tuner hid in the area for three months, so the governor offered a $500 bounty for his capture. Nat was tried in Jerusalem, renamed Courtland, and sentenced to hang.

He “confessed” to his lawyer, Thomas Gray, just before his hanging, and that is considered one of the best first-person accounts of what happened.

Here’s a link to a copy of the confessions: http://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/turner/turner.html

I discovered that a play has been written and performed in the last three years about the preacher/mystic. Using Thomas Gray’s “Confessions” as a primary source, writer and theater producer P.A. Wray has retold Nat Turner’s story in a one-act play which weaves history, folk tradition, and her own imagination into a unique vision of the slave rebel’s destiny. The title is “Nat Turner’s last struggle.”

The majority of homes where killings occurred have fallen down due to lack of funds to preserve them. The Rebecca Vaughan home was moved from the country side close to the Courtland courthouse. It was not open for touring.

It was a sad but interesting day.

On June 23 we stopped at Grand Pre National Historic Park. Once a thriving Acadian settlement, this site on the Bay of Fundy commemorates the expulsion/ deportation of the Acadians between 1755 and 1763.

Grand Pre means Big Meadow. The Acadians were masters at claiming marshland and making it into fertile farm land.

They cut up the marsh into clay blocks with marsh grass roots holding the blocks together. They built wooden sluices that allowed water to escape at low tide, but a wooden klapper prevented water from coming back into the fields.

It took 3 years of rain to desalinate the land.

The Acadians refused to sign an oath of allegiance during the French and Indian War because they insisted they were neutral. The Brits declared if you were not an ally, you were an enemy.

And so 7 years of ruthless extermination and deportation of 10,000 men, women, and children occurred.

This memorial stone church was built in the 1920s and houses genealogical records and paintings depicting the Acadian way of life.

This stained glass window in the church was created by an Acadian to show the sorrow and despair felt by those deported and those left on the shore waiting their turn.

Here’s some of the rolling farm fields that are part of the park now.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the epic poem “Evangeline” to tell the sordid tale. Many records, plays, and a musical have taken up the story.

In the visitor center was a display of Evangeline products: crackers, chocolates, tissues, etc.

The Dominion Atlantic Railway commissioned a statue of the heroine in 1920 to help get more (Acadian) passengers on their rail line.

The Brits looted and burned the homes and barns of the departed Acadians, so they couldn’t return. And squatters moved onto the cleared lands. There is still a trauma to their cultural psyche about that.

But, some hid for years in New Brunswick and Maine and returned after 1763. Others temporarily located to Massachusetts and the New Orleans/Lafayette area.

Despite having to start from scratch, there are many Acadian communities in Newfoundland, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia. They are fishermen, farmers, and crafts people.

A resilient people, it must be difficult to square fealty to the British crown with the fact that that same royal family caused so much death and loss of property.

Port Royal is the reconstruction of a 17th century French fur-trading compound. Built in 1939 during the Depression by unemployed shipwrights, it was the first large-scale reconstruction by the Canadian government.

Beautiful truss work in the roof.

This was the dining room. The more opulent table was for the “gentlemen”: an apothecary, two Jesuit fathers, a ship builder, and a lawyer/poet, etc.

The commoners’ / artisans’ table was set with a clay mug, a pewter bowl, and a spoon.

Well before the Pilgrims of Plimoth, Port Royal began in 1605 when French men (gentlemen and artisans) landed and were welcomed by the Mi’Kmaq.

Here’s why the Europeans were in Nova Scotia: beaver pelts. This one is stretched and drying.

When the Frenchmen got sick (tooth abscesses, scurvy, malnutrition) they were bedded in this wooden box with a wooden door. There are two bunk beds inside.

It’s nestled against the fireplace chimney, so they were a little warmer than the fellows in the open bunks.

The piece of wood on the right side is a sliding door with a handle to slide the door shut. It would be very dark!!

Here’s bedding near a window for airing out or to catch a breeze in the hotter weather.

The governor’s bed.

Bunks for the artisans who weren’t sick.

The settlement had a commanding view over the Bay of Fundy, but I didn’t get a picture.

Here’s the Trading Room with goods for which the Mi’Kmaq traded their beaver, moose, otter, fox, wolf, bear, and deer pelts. Sometimes the Native Americans brought fresh meat.

The French admired and bought some of the painted hides that the Mi’Kmaq produced.

And a pix of the beaver felt hat that our guide wore. Very tight fibers lock during processing to make it virtually waterproof.

Empires were established on the strength of the beaver trade. And then silk hats came into vogue in the mid 1800s. And that was the end of the beaver trade.

The original settlement was looted and burned to the ground by an English raiding party from Virginia in 1613.

Kingsbrae Garden was created by John and Lucinda Flemer to preserve and maintain into perpetuity the family’s former estate. Its architecture and gardens have long been an important part of the historic fabric of the community, St. Andrews-by-the-sea.Along with the wonderful theme gardens, was a beautiful sculpture garden. Here are the highlights.Aphrodite by Domenico Di GuglielmoThe Breach by Ryan MoyesThe See Below by Mark BreckenridgeThe Sentinel by Peter ShepherdZoe by Ryan Moyes. This sculpture represents moving forward and freedom from restraints. Zoe means ” life” in Greek.There were whimsical sculptures throughout the park without attribution.And this small plaque was affixed to a bench.A gorgeous day to wander gardens.

St. John is a hilly town on a bay that sees twice-daily battle between the St. John River and the 27 foot tides of the Bay of Fundy.

The River used to be three stepped falls, but now has become three stepped rapids. The area is officially called the Reversing Falls Rapids.

The Stonehammer Geopark is a UNESCO site extending for about 50-60 miles with St. John sort of in the middle.

Here’s the becalmed river. It’s slack tide- the tides of Fundy are at a standstill with the St. John River.

And here’s the same area at low tide.

The foggy pics were this morning. There’s a brewery in the background: Moosehead brewery.

Yesterday, we rode the 1.5 mile bike/walking path thru the downtown to the observation area. Along the way was this sculpture called “Shards of time”. It pays homage to all cultures, animals, and peoples who have called this fertile area home.

Gaps denote where there is a gap in knowledge.

Then we had 2 beers at Picaroons Brewery: A session IPA and a Yippee IPA. Very yummy.

A Picaroon is a pike used by lumbermen to move floating logs. A useful piece of knowledge for Trivial Pursuit or Jeopardy.

On June 17th we sat outside the library to use its free WiFi for about 2 hours. At least they had a picnic table.

Then down 3 blocks and along Water street to the Gables restaurant. I ordered a Rickard’s Red and Roy ordered a Picaroon Dooryard wheat ale.

Turns out Rickard’s is affiliated with Molson-Coors.

Picaroons is a brewery out of Fredericton, the provincial capital of New Brunswick. Here’s the description of Roy’s beer: all-organic recipe with added coriander and orange peel for this delicious hybrid Canadian-German-Belgian wheat ale.

Roy ordered the Greek salad and I had the chowder and egg salad sandwich special.

And here’s the view of the St. Croix River. Gorgeous day.

St. Andrews has about a dozen buildings in its historic district that date from the late 1700s and some were disassembled and numbered in Maine and reassembled in St. Andrews. Our guide said the Home Hardware has numbers on the beams!

I’m sorry about the cars, but I had to take the pics from across Water Street.

First, Minister’s island was a peninsula for millennia, but with global warming it is only connected to St. Andrews at low tide. We hitched a ride with a Fantasy Tour couple to tour it on June 16.

Sir William Van Horne was a Canadian Railway tycoon who built the railway across the country at half the estimated cost and in half the time.

A Renaissance man, he designed his “cottage”, barn and windmill to pump water to the house. He also designed a system to bring seawater into the house for warm saltwater baths.

Only sleeping 4 hours a night, he taught himself to paint, draw, and play piano. Many of his pastel paintings and pencil drawings were on display in the house. This is a detailed rendering of chanterelles.

And he has 3-4 patents to his credit.

His living room was huge. The pillars on either side of the massive fireplace were carved wood about 12-14 inches in diameter.

The hinges on the door into the butler’s pantry were massive and the door had three 3-inch round windows to peer out before opening the door.

The 3000 pound wood-burning stove cooked thousands of meals.

He had an icebox (ice in the middle and food on either side)

And his daughter Adelaide put in a GE refrigerator in 1938. Our guide said it still works but they have unplugged it.

Van Horne had a private railway car and used it extensively for business and pleasure. While it no longer exists, 3 pieces of furniture from it are kept in the house: a bed and 2 chairs.

The barn was massive…it held a variety of fowl, sheep, swine, Dutch Belted and Ayreshire cows, and Clydesdale horses. Van Horne and his daughter became expert breeders and won many provincial and national livestock competitions.

We were told Van Horne would make an order for meat, cream, butter, cheese, and eggs from the farm and it would be delivered by train to his home in Montreal the next morning.

The barn was built by unemployed shipwrights, so the underside of the roof looked like the hull of a massive wooden schooner. Very pretty.

The milking parlors, foreman office, and hay loft look like many others I have seen, so I didn’t take any pictures.

The creamery was boarded up awaiting renovation funds.

The Minister’s house (how the island was named) was also boarded up.

So, with high tide commencing at 8 pm and cutting off our escape route, we left the island at 6:30.