A lot happens doing nothing.
Hava Java for faster access to the internet than in Pleasant Street – what is with me and “Pleasant” but being a lovely day we sit outside meaning seeing the screen is impossible to see.
Have a café au lait two tea cakes a scone – out of partridgeberry bastards – and change our minds so often that they are baffled.
Run into two residents escaped from Pouch and heading out to find puffin on a boat out of Witless Bay
Anna becomes initial member PETI – people for the ethical treatment of insects as a Butterfly is hanging out in Water Street and is kicked by a high heeled worker coming out with her coffee. Daze and confused it falls into a puddle is drenched cannot fly, picked up and allowed to dry off before being placed in a hanging pot further down.
Meanwhile buddy has parked his shopping cart got a coffee lit his cigarette and tries to guess my nationality. He insists that I am Cuban, East Indian or Arab and doesn’t see the African ancestry at all. He is of German descent with a rare name which I didn’t catch.
The butterfly is still be nursed back to health.
I state that I have to photograph him Clarke’s Beach manner and in doing so his friend seeing the camera wants to tell me of the biggest beaver dam – in existence down Salmonier Line. It seems to stand a good four metres high.
While making the his snap, I try to garner information as to where it is.
The butterfly is slowly separating its wings.
- have a piece of paper?
-
I give him my Globe. He has a pen. He proceeds to draw some freestyle map where by chance everything important happens on the face of someone in the military where he then circles the photograph and x’s it out.
The butterfly is now safe to be released.
He talks a bit about photography – I wish I were fibre no one talks about fibre.
I sit to write postcards – Anna free starts to write letters to the high Arctic ( not artic).
The people beside us change from young marketers to Quebécois who talk about how soy is great in their Salamanca coffee.
The sky brighter it is nearly impossible to read the screen so off to Auntie Crae’s for a bight to eat, I head up to Afterwards to find look for a book whip out the Diana and a couple remark on how cool the camera is.
Make their snap – they are from Ann Arbour Michigan.
Been following the caplin watch – where there are caplin whales aren’t far behind – and supposedly they have been spotted in Middle Cove.
I am expecting what happens in Pouch Cove when the caplin come in. Russ gets his bucket heads down the ramp bucket in hand, dips it until it is overflowing with the fish then scurries back up the hill. All this being watch by Sam, Percy, and the odd tourist.
This was caplin fest. Ipanema is so passé when there is Middle Cove. There was a photo exhibit, a soiree was being prepared. People were camped out on the beach when we got there at four for the caplin tide at 9PM. There were people fishing – one poor bloke we talked to caught nothing when some young preteen was pulling them in every time he cast his line. As the afternoon turned into evening more nets, the butterfly type and the fishing type appeared, more people more buckets, one woman stood in the water – remember this is the North Atlantic – for two hours.
We started watching particular people – one older gent who dressed as if he were in a L.L, Bean Catalogue – stood at waters edge looking out to sea as if he were expecting the armada again he didn’t budge, net under one arm perfectly erect.
The unlucky fisherman left.
More dogs and children arrived. I watched. Anna photographed the chaos and I would naturally choose the time to talk when she would switch to video. Newfangled equipment what happened to the days when a camera was a camera and a video camera was a video camera?
Didn’t intend to spend that much time there so the half sleeves and sandals were not really the best choice when the sun started to set and the cove was completely in shade.
Best comment was a man in a group of three whom I had photographed as he talked to me, saying “I hope there are some tourists about.”
The unlucky fisherman returns after having a seafood medley for supper.
More people are standing in the water, intently watching which some feel is the wrong technique – they feel that if people stand on the shore the caplin will come up to the shore. Two people fall off the underwater ledge into deep water.
We listen intently as it is past 9PM and while the people casting nets are hauling them in the people on shore are still caplin free.
More fires on the beach, less of what we considered the experts we head to the machine and St. John’s.
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