Monday, July 3rd, second posting - Brigus, home to Captain Bob Bartlett, an ancestor of our good friend Bill March. Captain Bob is a most remarkable person of history, one whom I would recommend you look up...google him, get a book from the library, whatever. Or borrow the book I purchased when we get back. He was an amazing person, captain of the ship that took Perry finally to the North Pole, a leader of men who through example saved his crew from perishing when icebound. A writer of books, an explorer of reknown, known to Presidents and Royalty the world over. His home was in Brigus, which now is an open museum for all to see. We enjoyed touring through, and became more convinced than ever that he is one of the greats of Canadian history. And we hardly know of him. That should be changed.

We walked one end of the town to the other, as it's such a picturesque place to wander. Homes are so tidy, garderns well cared for, and it has a lovely harbour, with an inlet that some lucky folks overlook from their bridges (decks). We met a woman named Carolyn, twice, who talked our ears off about the area. She reminded us, for one thing, that in the old days, the folks of Brigus didn't do gardening. They were focussed on the sea and fishing, had no time for such things as planting flours. If there was any planting to be done, it was root vegetables...potatos, carrots, turnips and beets, as well as cabbage, to see them through long winters. Now, the village is home to retirees, some from St. John's, as was one gentleman we met, a former military man we met working on flower beds. Not sure he was fully enthusiastic, but he was following orders from his partner of 56 years, so was okay with it.

From Brigus, we drove 'round the bottom of the bay and up and into the overflow of St. John's in South Conception Bay, a suburban sprawl that we were happy to escape as soon as we could. We came upon the road to the ferry to Bell Island, and off Gail went to enquire at a little booth as to what the deal was to go over. She came back announcing that she had purchased our passage, so that was that. We were going!! I pulled into line, and ended up only one vehicle from the little booth, where we had a wait of nearly an hour. Most of that time was spent with the gentleman who operates the ticket booth, who I shall call Jack. He was one of the most interesting people we met here on The Rock, so I had a great chat with him. He wandered over to chay, and would go back to the booth if a paying customer came along, but then back to chat some more. Sort of what Newfoundlanders are like, willing to chat at the drop of a word.

So much to tell about Jack and his history and philosophy, but suffice it to be brief. His mother died when he was very young and his father was an alcoholic. So he was in foster homes all of his childhood and youth, until he got out of that trap at around age 14. Odd jobs for four years, and no doubt a bit of trouble as well, as he was on his own, until he joined the military. Did him the world of good, providing discipline, orderliness, purpose and three squares a day. He served for about 10 years, until injured by shrapnel in a training exercise. So he was discharged, but managed to get on with the Coast Guard, where he served for 18 years. Life in the Coast Guard cost him his relationship with his woman, as he was in the far north for 6 months at a time. Spent a lot of time in the north, and loved it.

Finally, he had done the time needed for pension, then got on with the government doing the work he now enjoys. He makes 60K a year, drives a lovely used Mercedes, has a Philippine girlfriend, and is very happy with the way life has turned out. I loved to listen to him,  the Irish accent, the language, the ideas and hard-earned philosophy that he projected. He's due to retire in two years. I encouraged him to sit down and  put on paper some of the things we had talked about. It would make colorful and entertaining reading, and would contain some good life lessons for his readers. He said he just might do that.

Bell Island, another story in Canada's history that we know so little about. At one time, their iron ore mine was the largest in the world. Closed in the 60 after 80 years of operation, it has meant the island's population has dropped from 18,000 to about 3,000. Most people that live there now are pensioners, welfare recipients, have local businesses (only a few) or commute to St. John's every day, back and forth on their irregular ferry, where they may have to wait over an hour to get on. Some folks also commute to the island to work in the clinic/medical center. So it's heyday is long gone.

We free camped on a beach that was recommended to us by Jack, and had a lovely evening, right on the water overlooking Conception Bay. Quite a few folks were down in the area, socializing or chasing the domestic ducks that were numerous on a little pond behind our rig. But by 10 p.m,, we had the beach to ourselves for a quiet lovely evening. Next day, we toured the iron ore mine and museum, which will be in our next report.

I should also mention that four Allied ships were sunk right off the beach where we were camped by German U-boats, with considerable loss of life. There were memorial markers on the beach detailing the four sinkings, and listing the 200 plus sailors that had perished. Hadn't realized that there had been sinkings that close to home by U-boats. They even know that numbers of the U-boats and who their captains were, with the mine museum displaying artifacts about one of the Captains. Time heals all wounds, they say.

More later. Stay tuned.