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At the first extended stop of the outing up the Bonavista Bay side of the Bonavista Peninsula, I started to wonder if I am somehow a new incarnation of John Berger.

It could have been the people cutting the hay for their horse. It could also have been the fact that I was glad that I was out of St. John’s and wandering around the province again and it was a lovely day.

I also worried that I was somehow intellectually slumming it as every time I pick up the camera I worry that I am adding to the stereotype of the place while attempting to do the opposite. There were a lot of empty, unused buildings, of rooms, overgrown playgrounds and someone using scythes instead of something motorised does tend toward the nostalgic and quaint rather than energy efficient – the human version of laundry lines.

It was also brought up to me - although indirectly – how the area was being changed by the CFA’s. It was then that I realised that I was driving the ultimate townie machine – saw no Volvos parked around the houses when I was out.

Up early to get to the Clarenville for breakfast at Tim Horton’s - packed dinner but forgot breakfast – two Danish then what I thought a race to the junction of routes 230 and 2355 for the part of the area that I was interested in.

The plan up the Bonavista Bay side – more interesting - to Bonavista to wander then back to Catalina before heading home.

What kept the speeding in check was road construction just outside Georges Brook where I saw a ball park, then again at the Clarenville Airstrip which is used for drag racing.

A stop in Summerville for the church which was balanced by lobster pots and crates for shipping assuaging my worries that I was documenting only those things not in use anymore.

Also saw another saw mill which would be a recurring theme on the outing – came across more in Plate Cove and Stock Cove.
a minor delay here as i am at hava java and am in more shock than usual a starbucks is opening across the street and i have been going DSL crazy answering e-mails and chatting with someone whose work i respect Battery Radio - now ed has come and sat down.

My photographic process was pretty much inefficient. I am still in the mind set that I will hop out of the machine make a couple of snaps of the place then hop back in. Due to this I pick up ‘Bira, and the digital and head away – note to self when I am deported back to civilisation, remember to lock the car, here I leave it unlocked with the windows down.

This isn’t the case anymore. The times away from the machine are longer, I run out of film and at times go back for the Diana when I am feeling particularly moody.

I became the subject of curiosity when I kept returning to the machine in Plates Cove. Stopped at first due to the rooms close to the road and the ex-lax thermometer on the side of a garage, then found out that there was a saw mill and a mural, so returned for more film, then saw some new lobster pots so back for more film and a different camera – got me why the different camera – although completely different in temperament ‘Bira and Zequinho more or less interchangeable. I use Ubirajara for precise framing and Zequinho for snaps of people but now I am used to both and know where the edges are on both.

Then saw a man harvesting hay with a scythe – hence the John Berger reference – Into Their Labours, my version, Once in Bonavista – Cod Sea and To the Soiree. While de did the Newfoundland nod and I asked if I could head down on the path, I felt this not sufficient to make his snap and felt that if I did I would be more anthropologist than documenter –again an olde worlde habit by backwards people when I saw a man who looked half his age not contributing – unlike me – too global warming and almost zen like in the movement – very compact very close to the ground.

Went to photograph lobster pots – which I needed so that I wouldn’t be aiding the idea of the province as a lost cause steeped in its past. Then saw a gutting table, so needed to head back to the machine to pick up the Diana and more film.

All of a sudden there were three people in the field now more bemused by my comings and goings than their job two were cutting one was sharpening.

Back to the machine in case to get the digital and more film.

- how much film do you have? The one who was sharpening asked.
Ah the introduction I needed. We chatted.
From Baltimore. They’ve been there.
Were they clearing the field?
No hay for the horse.
Will this be enough for winter?

At this time the first guide dog of the day approached - a puppy - with his owner running behind him.

Started with the real camera, then made some digital of which I think the digital point and shoot were the best. I like the twin lens like waist level aspect. I can still carry on a conversation.

Joke a bit while the woman went down the path chasing her dog, they still astounded on the amount of snaps I was making and wondering if I would come back.

Headed onward and one would think that I would learn and carry the courier bag but no in Point Cove East I did the same thing and worse photographing the freshwater wading pool by the ocean. The pool being full of people threw me off.

Talked to two Upper Canadians one who was born there but left when she was three, a quick snap and went on kicking myself for I knew that could do better but this realisation only came when I got to King’s Cove.

Kings Cove and Stock Cove was pretty much alone but still didn’t take the bag- I chalk it up to some new exercise regimen – Newman’s Cove by far the least picturesque was the one that I liked the best.

The others were real coves that brings into question on of the debates on water – pond, inlet, open sea. Pond for its friendliness one can swim, fish and not worry about hyperthermia or riptides. Inlets are picturesque with the far shore in the background and the houses climbing the hills. There is usually a twisty road. Open Sea, however, there is no other side, there is an horizon line no things placed to let your eye wander – it goes to the horizon and then back to the shore.

This was Newman’s Cove. This is where the Bayman-Townie Skitching Residency would be – but then again the day before it would have been in Cappahayden.

Parked and walked the main drag photographing the sadness of all the shops that were closed, looking at all the places that could be bought with Canadian Tyre money but also seeing people out for the food fishery and a working harbour.

My precarious position and my worries about my status on the Rock were stated by a man, who stopped mowing his “lawn” to have a chat. He was born in the house. He now lived in Marystown (why?) and was selling it.

He had moved away some time ago and his father had let the house go. When he died, it was sold to someone who let it go and defaulted on the mortgage so he bought it back.

Now it is not feasible for him so he is going to sell it and put a camper on a lot overlooking the sea that he also owns.

His family had a deep history here – owned a shop knew everyone. Now there was only one convenience. The place was hardly self sufficient when at one time it was. We discussed the fact that the hope of areas like this will be as retirement communities and he pointed out some of the new residents – no need their houses didn’t fit in at all but there were quite well off. There were people who were better off than I had anticipated.

He also mentioned how the place has changed.
- with the people who used to be here I could walk through their yards as shortcuts but with these new people and their ideas of property I am not sure.

Felt sheepish hearing this as I was scoping out property – yeah right like I’ll ever move here – but proud that he could confide in ma about this.

Then showing concern about my photography told me to go down and ask the watermen if I could go out with the food fishery

-good photographs from out there. A two hour wander about the town – don’t know where the time went – escorted once again by a dog.

Spoke to a woman on her front porch – I wanted the porch empty when I went up but I hesitated.

Down to the launch where came up with a quicky book CONSTELLATIONS.

Bonavista was too big, I couldn’t focus and by now I wanted to get back to the fresh water pool in Point Cove East. Drove through not even stopping.

The same almost happened in Catalina but I went back to the place we were on Saturday, parked the machine and walked. Ran into the two lads selling painted rocks – bought one 25¢ - and photographed them. Then a boat launch some laundry lines, wood piles, bus shelters, root cellar, rooms, some formal stuff and more images for the quicky book. The battery in the digital was dieing and I thought – wrongly that I had brought another. So no digital snap of the kids as I wanted to photograph the pool in colour.

It was the perfect time of day, the sun low the temperature changing as it does when it is duckish, the sea on the Trinity Bay side was calm. The exposures were racing the setting sun.

Arrived at the pool and made a snap. Moved a bit to make another and …

Memory card full.

What it couldn’t be.

Checked again and yes the memory card was full. A panic edit so that I could get two more images. Thought as if I were using a plate camera, made an exposure.

Left. Saw another potential snap so another image was culled.

The cameras are put away and I look for a picnic table for my supper and decide to eat it pond side in Summerville a popular place to hang out as there is a stonehenge of Canadians. One more digital and film snap and this time for sure the cameras will go away and I eat.

A man and his daughter are walking along the pond.

Halfway into the picnic – British style in the machine – three cars and two dirt bikes pull up to have their evening meetings.

Don’t rush, finish my meal then start the journey back, but divert into Brooklyn as it was only three kilometres off the main road.

My last dog guide shows me around and there is just enough space on the memory card for a jpeg. Use the ‘Bira to make a snap of a bus shelter then see a gutting table below with the rising moon.

Then worrying it won’t come out go back to the machine to get more film and Zequinho for more attempts in the near dark, the dog now bored with my indecision.