Merry Christmas

It has been a long time since my last post - but really, how many beach and sunset shots can I post before it is just cruel?

We did have our first northern visitor in early December. Lee came down from Indianapolis and found a moment for photography on the pier.

We enjoyed the local lighting of the Christmas tree at the beach-side park that also included a parade of golf carts down the highway past the largest building in town - the El Governor hotel.

Since it is oceanside the holiday pelican is necessary.

De Anne and I wish a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!

Year-Long Vacation - Mexico Beach

The last few weeks were busy - selling our condo, finding a Mexico beach condo to rent and since I quit smoking I had that pressure too. At least the repeated trips up and down stairs should be easier.

OK, you can tell from the picture there is a street between us and the beach but why quibble over a few dozen feet? Soft, white sand and clear, emerald water makes for a happy wife and isn't that what's important in life?

And if De Anne is not on the beach here is her backup spot.

Down south

Our last stop was St. Augustine, a town I have always wanted to see, but somehow always missed. Since I seldom miss a fort, wherever we go, we remained true to form and arrived at Castillo De San Marcos for the morning opening. Unlike many forts that are built but never see action this one has a bloody past. It traded hands several times over the past several hundred years.

The moat was used as a livestock pen during peaceful times, but could be flooded when under attack.

We strolled the old town and passed through the city gates.

Down at the yacht club children were preparing for sailing class.

At last ...... A moose!

We paused our trip south for another short visit with Tristan. We visited the Smithsonian Museum Sunday which seemed to be a popular choice with thousands of others. 

De Anne, despondent from a lack of moose sightings in Canada and Maine, finally spotted one in the museum. Her enthusiasm was muted due the stuffed nature of the moose.

it was great that De Anne has Tristan who can keep up with her long, quick hiking step. Lucky for me they were both frequently distracted and stopped by interesting exhibits allowing me opportunity to catch up.

 

Echo lake

It has been a peaceful week in an idyllic setting. Ribeye steaks on the grill, cocktail in hand, and the sun setting behind the mountain. I couldn't ask for more.

De Anne has gotten her hikes in, without me, on the trails in the park across the lake. I have accompanied her on several exploratory canoe trips around the lake, then called my exercise done for the day and retired to the deck with a book.

Tomorrow we begin the long, slow journey back to the lands that require air conditioning. I say slow only because a couple more short stops are planned.

Back to America

Our summer tour is winding down, but first a week in the northeast corner of Maine. We have a cabin on Echo Lake, a spring fed gem, next to Aroostook state park a few miles south of Presque Isle. Back to America where things are cheap ...... for now at least.

De Anne is unhappy that she has not seen a moose yet. She out at this moment searching the shores of the lake in a canoe looking for the great beast. I have gone with her a couple times, but lack the ardor she brings to the search.

Our cabin.

De Anne returning from moose patrol.

A month gone by

It is our last day in Parrsboro so we had to visit Partridge Island which we have stared at from the porch for the last 29 days.

The shore in the distance is where we have stayed the past month.

The driftwood shows where the highest tides reach.

While enjoying cocktail hour bay-side this para glider coasted past. He hovered over us and spoke to De Anne while I scurried inside for the camera.

Note the broken trees in the picture below. Everyone with a chain saw has been busy this week.

We will visit St. John NB tomorrow, then back to America - barely.... We have a week scheduled on Echo Lake near the northern tip of Maine.

Fun and games

Hurricane Arthur spent Saturday with us. Of course he had been down graded to a tropical storm at 2:00 am Saturday morning about 100 miles south of us, but we did not feel we missed much.

The morning was spent watching the power and fury snug in our sea-side cabin. The tide was out and it seemed comparable to a Florida thunderstorm without the heavy downpour. Just after lunch, with the tide returning, a brief pause with some sun appeared. I realized it was the eye of the storm passing right over us.

Then the backside hit. It was a real punch. The power flickered a while and went out. The real fun and games had started. The cabin started shaking. It was like we were riding in a train - that steady movement with random bounces. Surprisingly, the power came back on an hour later and lasted 2 more hours before going out again, this time for 2 hours. Third time was the charm. It was Sunday morning before power was back.

Still photos don't do justice but notice the bent trees in the first picture and the steep, close waves in the second. Those waves were formed with less than a mile of fetch.

Calm before the storm

Knowing that Hurricane Arthur was going to put a damper on things Saturday we took a stroll on the beach during the falling tide. We reached the town dock and found a couple sail boats tucked away for the storm. 

On the way home I got the bright idea to cut across the flats. I see people out on the flats every day walking around. This may be because of that singularly important item called "local knowledge". I on the other hand discovered a mud bank and promptly sank several inches. My shoes were trapped and I had to step out of them and yank them out of the suction of the mud, then head for rocky high ground. De Anne, who had declined to accompany me through the flats, was quite amused. Lucky for me I was near an ice cold mountain stream and standing in the frigid water I was able clean myself and my shoes.

The Parrsboro dock an hour before low tide

The force of the tide is not evident unless flowing over an obstacle.

OK, I will NOT be testing the validity of this warning notice on the log. "DANGER QUICKSAND"

Victoria Park

Victoria park is located in Turo about an hour and a half drive east of Parrsboro. This town of less than 10,000 people has a park in the middle of town of 1,000 acres. Not only is it bigger than New York's Central Park, but much prettier, and much safer. Even the dogs we encountered were polite.

While De Anne changed her shoes and checked out the facilities I studied the map on display in the parking lot and noted one long trail with a warning about how steep and rugged it was. Good information! I determined our path which did not include the aforementioned evil trail. 

An hour later I let my attention slip and before I realized my error De Anne was nonchalantly climbing a steep trail with me gasping along behind her. Returning to the civilized part of the park I found a bench on which to recover and enjoy a waterfall.

Several of the more refined paths in the park have rough stairs for an easier way to traverse the steep hills.

Clammin'

The Parks Department offered a class on clamming at 5 Islands park Saturday morning. Bring your own shovel and bucket. No one showed up and tides wait for no man, so I forged ahead solo and untrained. 

Background: clams like mud and the Fundy Bay has large areas of red, sticky mud. One tee shirt shop will sell you a white tee shirt that you coat with this red mud in a barrel on the store porch and they guarantee it won't wash out. 

I headed down the rocky beach and into the mud. Keep moving and it is not too hard to walk through; however, stand still for a couple minutes and you get trapped. More on this later.

Success was immediate! It ain't rocket science. Find a small hole in the mud, stick the shovel in 6 to 8 inches, flip the mud, and find the clam. Of course a shovel full of mud is heavy and the clams are mixed in with rocks, plus your feet are sinking. 

 

The long shot of the beach with me starting my dig.

Just as I was finishing my first (and last) hour of hard labor a tourist family shows up - like I am not a tourist too. The little boy about 5 or 6 wanted to see me dig clams. He had little rubber boots on and the parents asked if he could watch me. He was fascinated when I showed him the tell-tale hole and dug up a clam. 

His parents had questions about clamming and using my vast knowledge and experience acquired over the previous 45 minutes (I failed to disclose the depth of my experience) I answered their questions. I have long known that being considered an expert is all about presentation. 

By this time both the little boy and I had settled into the mud. When he started to panic I reached over to help free a boot. He fell over and acquired a generous coat of the famous Fundy mud. I returned him to the safety of the beach in a condition unsuitable for car travel. His parents took things with good grace. I suspect it was not his first foray into grime. I packed it up and returned to the car which De Anne had stocked with plastic for this eventuality. Sometimes there is difficulty distinguishing between boys and men.

As we departed we watched the parents searching for a water spigot.  

If you kill it, you eat it

Note to Lee: knife is still being put to good use.

Cabin on the bay

I have neglected to show our home for the month. 

A spacious one bed/one bath cabin. The owners bought it just after a bad storm that removed 20 feet of shoreline. The result was a cabin hanging slightly over the water. The first thing they did was clear land and drag the cabin back fifty feet. Second was the addition of a sea wall of very large granite stone topped with basket ball sized stone.

De Anne has been collecting driftwood of unusual shapes. It is an ideal area for driftwood.

It the below picture, taken in front of our cottage, she is walking the shore for driftwood. Notice the skeleton of a pier to the right of her - that is completely covered at high tide.

To add to the woodsy feel is our neighbor the groundhog.

Cape d'Or

Just another drive with breathtaking scenery to the lighthouse at Cape d'Or. Concentrating on the twisty road I was occasionally startled when De Anne would issue forth with a loud "Wow! Look at that!" - which of course I couldn't do for fear of sending us to a fiery death over some cliff. I made her drive back so that I could enjoy the views, but the lesson was not effective since she was still sightseeing while driving.

The last seven kilometers was on a dirt road. (Sidebar: when we arrived in Parrsboro and visited the grocery store we were both struck by all the dirty cars. We have since discovered most roads change to dirt a few miles out of town.) At the end of the dirt road we parked on a bluff and walked down to the lighthouse.

De Anne, as usual, leading the way.

The end of the point.

From the point, in both directions.

On the return trip - fIshing boats at low tide. Note the appropriate name on the nearest one.

Expert tour

IThe Fundy Geological Museum in Parrsboro offers a field trip once a day at low tide along the cliffs nearby that have had a wealth of fossils removed. We signed up for the Wednesday tour.

The customers were just De Anne and I. The guides were two senior geology students from a local college. The male guide was obviously enjoying the trip more than us and, while a bit more reserved, the woman guide exhibited signs of pleasure being in the field. It is very enjoyable to watch people who love their work.

Of course, two college students in their element had no problem scampering over rocks and across slippery mud flats. De Anne, as always, can keep up with anyone. I worked hard not to fall too far behind.

Our guides were regularly picking up rocks and exclaiming "Oh look! Here is proof that ....". The general gist of last 200 million years is that Nova Scotia was once attached to Morocco, broke away, drifted north, was at the the northern end of Appalachian Mountains, and a lot of coal was formed, and a lot of dinosaurs died in the red rocks seen in the picture above, and then we showed up and paid $20 to leave our footprints behind.

The guide climbed the cliff a bit in his excitement to point out some crystals exposed since his last tour. I declined the opportunity to join him; however, did take him up on his offer to take our camera up for him to get the shot using his hand as reference.

Now, you and I may not be impressed, but this was the high point of the day for him.

They even knew the names of the two islands - called (with great economy and efficiency) Island One and Island Two.

We ended our tour where most of the fossils were found and both our guides were able to find several embedded fossils in less than a minute searching through the fallen sandstone rocks.

100 billion tons

After weeks of gypsy travel we have landed in Parrsboro NS. Our home for the next month is a cottage set in a fir forest fifty feet from the Bay of Fundy, or at least a cove off the Bay of Fundy. 

When I say fifty feet I am speaking of high tide. The cove we are on is about 40 feet deep at high tide and empty 6 hours later at low tide. Every day 100 billion tons of water moves in and out of the bay.

For my Indiana friends, think of Lake Monroe emptying and refilling twice a day, and that just accounts for our "little" cove - not the whole bay.

To quote a biblical passage: The Lord giveth......

..... And The Lord taketh away.....

PEI

The locals of Prince Edward Island use only the abbreviation of PEI. Access is across a seven mile toll bridge that charges nothing for the trip to the island and a mere $45.00 toll when you decide to leave. Not only does the pastoral beauty of the island lure the traveler to stay but the the toll to depart too.

We did find a deserted beach for De Anne; however, she did not find any desire to slip into her bikini.

Huge dunes along the shore.

Where the beach ended - large cliffs.