In the attempt to record everything that has happened and to catch up due to the dark ages before I got dial up form Aliant, I realise that this is the worse journal I have kept on line. In trying to catch up – made worse by the talk at the Discovery Centre of which I remember nothing – and the workshop for 5-12 year olds the next day – where we made photograms using argyrotypes and flora not – I repeat not picked in Gros Morne, the trail from house to the Discovery Centre is in Woody Point so all the rare species of plants are ripe for the taking – I have only been relating facts.
Nothing has been mentioned of the code words that Kendra and I have made for the various types running about Bonne Bay – well except for those wonderful Upper Canadians, nor I have said how awe struck I was one night walking back from the Seabreeze and looking up to see deeper into space than I thought possible.
I haven’t said how the people of Bonne Bay are so friendly that they make the people of the Avalon seem like New Yorkers. The five minute walk to Pete’s takes treble the time as we stop and chat with everyone from Bruce or his uncle at the Gas Bar, Debbie at the 3T’s, Amanda at Pete’s, Viola at Granite City, then there is the constant Newfoundland nod that makes me look like a bobble head doll while walking.
No one walks here. Elaine at the Seabreeze drives from her house to the Granite City Café for breakfast – maybe four blocks, then across the street to the 3T’s for Granite Coffee. One evening she drove from the bar to the Legion two doors down.
We’ve seen people circle the village many times from the house.
Needless to say I am always offered rides and I feel sheepish as the Saturn is parked by the house I have to say that I prefer to walk. I walk the trail to the Discovery Centre – so I don’t have to see who is in the machine that just passed, and the trail by the bay from there to town.
I haven’t mentioned that I am tired of people wanting to see moose. Seeing moose here is like seeing pigeons in Chicago. We almost walked into one walking through the field to the Seabreeze, and again on the Stucklees’ pond trail now we talk loudly. Heading to the Discovery Centre there was by the trail and driving back with Marilyn from Trout River there were four near the road.
Likewise whales, there hasn’t been a day when there hasn’t been a whale in the bay. I admit that the Orca’s were kinda cool but still they are humps on the horizon. To-day to break the monotony there were dolphins – three of them up by Shoal Brook.
I forgot to mention the trading of jokes and barbs at the Seabreeze at around midnight and not that everybody knows our name – we are the C.F.A’s after all but we know theirs.
The ritual of dinner/supper al fresco every evening on the picnic table - a ritual so engrained that when it does rain it seems strange to eat inside. Then relating to the town what the vegetarian ate and if it were any good.
The constant change in the sky and water, Walking the tablelands the hills went in an out of the sun so quickly that it set off all sorts of new perceptions of depth.
To-day trying to find the old Woody Point, dump, Kendra trying to photograph rocks that she throws up in the air could have sworn that the clouds were moving in to opposite directions. Here it is possible.
It is the fact I know more people in Bonne Bay and Trout River – all of whom seem to be related – than I do on my block in Peasants Pissoir – and they actually speak.
To-day was a nice what has become a normal day. Up early to rebuild the studio after the workshop with the kids. Down to the 3T’s to drop of the argyrotypes to the mums of some of the kids. I wanted to walk the paths to the discovery centre but didn’t want to repeat steps so I walked the road to the cemetery to make a snap that I want to do before the rains came. Down to the Discovery Centre to drop off the last prints – just in time to see a coach load of wonderful old age pensioners complete with name tags trundle down the steps to the toilets at the lift has been broken since I arrived.
Talked a bit with Jessica then walked the shore path after stopping as an official look out on the road just before the turn off to Trout River.
Down the hill on the bay heading into town I stopped so often that I ran out of film. Started photographing a fire pit by a cabin, but ended up photographing rocks in the bay where the water was lighter than the mountains on the other side.
Went back to the house to reload to get ready for the afternoon. Went to the post office to post some cards when there was a post card for me – an ego boost as it seems that I do actually live here.
More post cards from Pete’s.
We make an outing into Trout River so that Kendra can drop off her photographs at the Interpretive Centre. We then make the rounds to drop off announcements at the Sunrise Café, over to Patsy’s to buy some socks and give her an announcement. She gives us banana bread and cherry bread as she is going to Deer Lake for six weeks to take care of a sick relative. She was to give us 100 pounds of pork but,,, Asked if we would be at the dance that evening
Took Ubirajara so that I could photograph the people that I knew, complicating my working method even more. On this trip there was the Hobo, the digital and ‘Bira.
Paul’s next where we chat with his mother, see the fish drying across the way when Amy stops by to say hello. They also asked if we would be at the dance.
That done we headed back up the gulch and in to the Tablelands as I wanted to find the old garbage tip that Kris said was along the old Trout River Road.
Walked passed the walking stick carrying shared outfitted people to the turn off then had to stop. What Kris didn’t tell me was that the road was washed out and I was in no mood to try to balance my way over the rocks. Turned back making few snaps, there was one successful image in response to Kris.
The first dinner outside on the picnic table in three days, then I head to the basement to develop the film - 36 negs - in two batches of 18. It was the worse night to do it as Radio One in the summer didn’t have IDEAS but instead an evening of bad music shows. Wish that the CBC would simply give up on trying to be hip.
Between the batches I head downtown to photograph again the gas bar, and Pete’s but I also photograph 3T and the launderette by Granite Coffee.
It is then than people come up and say that they know people at the ‘tute. I want to run.
While I am running the second batch someone walks into the house and yells out. I think it is Kendra and say that I still have 10 minutes sin the dark. There is a shouting match as I cannot hear anything. But finally the person says she’ll be back in 10 minutes.
The second batch was almost through when I heard the front door open and someone walking upstairs.
We leave everything unlocked, the car the house. Traditionally in outports doors were always open and people could come in when they wanted. Here in Bonne Bay it isn’t quite like that as this is a heavy tourist area with many people who weren’t born here, but I want people to see the work and the place is so small – this isn’t Trout River or Rocky Harbour after all. The keys are around here somewhere.
Thought it was Kendra, she yelled something but with the wireless was on and I couldn’t hear. Yelled back that I am in the dark for ten more minutes.
-Alright I’ll be back.
Finished developing, fixing and staining the film and had just put it in the wash when Elaine with her sister Shelly, Shirley and Delilah came down the steps, said that I was to get in the back of the machine as we were going to the dance at the Rusty Jigger in Trout River. Elaine drove not seeing the two moose by the road in the gulch.
Leave the film to wash – in all it washed three hours – and head over.
A tense atmosphere made even more so by one man walking in with four women one of whom is related to everyone in the place it seems. See all the people that I know, Owen, the Brakes, Patsy among others and feel a bit more comfortable.
Of course am introduced to everyone and even meet the notorious Muriel of the Riverside Take-Out – foul mouthed Muriel.
I wonder while there when I became a Newfoundland and Western aficionado as I was tapping my feet to the songs. Being darker and from away all thought that I could dance which I cannot but I had to prove it to each and every one there. It seems that everyone dances in Trout River.
The woman from the Interpretive Centre told me to thank Kendra for the snaps she dropped off and she laughed at the laundry line picture.
The dance – which really wasn’t a dance but a party of some sort it is as just said everyone dances in trout River – ended at 3AM
Being dropped off at the house I finished washing the negs and went to sleep. Another real dance tonight.
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