the final ferry finally

-there was a fire aboard the atlantic vision last night as the ship pulled out of north sydney the ship returned to port. it seems that the fire was in the boiler room as it was when the ship did its test run in january. no one was injured.

figures.

i hear this at the top of the hour news as i am leaving the fair isle motel - a great little motel in waycocomagh. the owner could have got by cynically with the view but actually worried about the inside of the rooms. mine had microwave, toaster, refrigerator, tea kettle and coffee maker, but what made it was that instead of standard motel fixtures, she went to restoration hardware.

i am officially starting the day in mabou mines - 20 klicks north - for despite what some misplaced israelis say, former swiss photographers photographers with jewish sounding names aren’t to blame for the wandering instinct of the breed - photographers not misplaced israelis or former swiss photographers.

greater wanders being.
st brenden
louis and clark
timothy o’sullivan
fernão magalhães
and of course that tour group leader moses who wandered the sinai without a gps.

last time here in similar situations made a quick diversion to see if i could find the place later realised that i was on the wrong side. this time headed to the mines, and worked back hoping to recognise something from the photographs - we know they don’t lie.

one can see why the area was chosen, open to the sea, a lot of land around the few houses that i saw, nestled in a valley.

passed a house with a ratty-ish machine in the front with new york plates. could it be? before i could react, i pass another with new york plates in front.

good enough. make a panoramic then head on my way.

think about perspective as i stop at the gasbar, across the street there is a photo gallery which can only lead to the thought of bobby frank opening one up along main street also.

mabou is quite the intellectual oasis along the ceilidh trail, a bistro, many galleries and shops. seems nice but...

and this wander has been about the buts. would i move here, i would be a sensible place to live - the area is beautiful, driving from waycocomagh i realised all that i missed by hanging to the coast and if i had chosen to go more inland, i would have found more of what i was looking for.

the lady pumping the gasoline - and cleaning the windows - wasn’t any more encouraging than the owner of the motel.

sure you can do the cabot in three hours but you are going to want to stop. when’s your ferry? she at least gave me a short cut.

i wasn’t planning to stopping, already i was becoming nervous fearing that i would miss the ferry, i was constantly calculating the time left versus my speed. i reckoned i would get to north sydney at 4pm for the 6:30 sailing.

and stuck pretty much to my word. stopping once at the tim’s, i plut my blinders on and made time. i admit it was difficult as this was road side attraction land. a shop with scare crows out, another advertising itself with manekins dressed along the highway. was wondering if it would be possible to come back this way.

i was looking for a photograph that i saw last night after dark but was so preoccupied with getting to the ferry that i passed it.

the highlands were what i needed. they are beautiful, the mountains, the valleys, driving is great with the curves the steep rises and descents but with me looking for human traces, there was nothing to make me stop. unlike everyone else that stopped at every lookout possible.

the highlands were what i didn’t need as people drove incredibly slowly, ontarians the worse. along the 401 they are at a leisurely 160 clicks, here they can barely make 20. am constantly recalculating. becoming more antsy as there are more of them.

now i am too far along to turn back i must keep going and hope. i keep thinking destinations are further along than they are. but in the end i am through the park and find that i am closer than i think.

the cbc is constantly talking about the ferry and the back ups along the road into north sydney, i cannot stop to phone so press on hoping to be indignant at the booth.

but i did stop again, reckoning that it was only 30 minutes to the ferry and only 2PM, i was ok. stopped at look out for the graffitti mixed the scene. once again became the official photographer for people who wanted everyone in the picture.

it was the easiest i had had getting into the wait area for marine atlantic. wondered what all the fuss was about. was third in the queue. gave my reservation number said i knew that the atlantic vision wasn’t sailing so when would i get out. midnight.
was third in the queue. parked the machine. worried about the film in the boot as it was the hottest day so far and there was no shade. sheltered them from the heat with the shiny aluminium shade that i had and went for a walk around north sydney.

some chips at cisco’s fries, another smoothie from the irving’s next door, wandered the neighbourhood where buddy mistaking me for his friend ray yells out - jesus you’re getting to be as dark as a n.....
-that’s because i am...

he apologised when he realised that i wasn’t ray, invited me up for a beer - budweiser - could see that his girlfriend was quite embarrassed.

-no thanks, i said, you only rent beer.

she got it. he didn’t.

checked the heat of the boot. then headed into the terminal to catch up on the entries.

the queue to get in now was three miles long outside the terminal, lorries were now parked all over town awaiting a time to be able to get in. two truckers in the the bar had been waiting now for 48 hours.

there were discussions that people on the rock didn’t realise how their lives depended on the ferry service and how they were being let down. fresh produce comes in via the ferry and it was passing its sell by date on the docks. sobey’s and the likes pay an express charge so that we can have our kiwis but that is tacked on to the prices in their shops. the truckers were comparing prices in cape breton where no ferry is needed to the rock. they seemed to think that if the people of newfoundland and labrador knew how much their trade was dependent on the ferries - from new cars to crap for walmart - they would press marine atlantic for more reliable ferry service.

worked in the bar as there was a table as long as i could, they turned on the air and froze me out. but others seeing me working quickly made use of the wifi and updated their face book pages.

wandered back into town at night for some food as the ferry really isn’t vegetarian friendly, then made some snaps of north sydney at night.

worried more on if and how i would get to sleep on the caribou as there is usually a rush for the seats and i had no sleeper.

the ferry was supposedly on a load and go service. it arrived at 23:30 loaded at 0:30 and finally left at 3:00. found a seat and didn’t move.

another island

hey take my picture diving, i heard as i got out of the machine at the harbour in arisaig.
the day hadn’t started out well, not even used to smaller cities i got lost in new glasgow trying to find the sunrise trail. the more i went along the road the more dubious the route. gave up and turned back into town - which looked quite nice - again self sufficiency on a scale that puts cities ten times its size to shame. barely 10 000 people but a thriving town centre and again people out and about.

ended up two off ramps west of where i entered but this time reading the maps - an hour later i was off the trans-canada and on the sunhine coast trail.

already nova scotia looked less tidy than p.e.i. it looked comfortably lived in. there was still this mix of rehab and abandoned but it was more at random than on the island.

following the plan of the day before i was pulling into wharves to walk around. not only was there the chance of photographing objects as well as making formal arrangements. here also there wasn’t the rustic but the working.

it seems that arisaig’s harbour was also the beach.

-ok get ready. i yell back as i walk over. this is getting to be too complicated as i reach in to pick up ziquinho and the digital to make snaps.

-wasn’t he here yesterday? one kid whispers.
-no that was another person i said the same the same thing but he didn’t hear me.
-and i did with ears ruined by the who
-who?
-what?
-what?
-who
-that’s what i heard.
so for the next 20 minutes i became the official photographer for the arisaig harbour diving team as they all took turns diving for the camera even one who wasn’t quite sure. said that i would e-mail them and got a message before i hit the motel asking for them.

tried to hit me up for ice cream.

the best part was them made a few snaps but they were pretty much formulaic, the buildings some quite iconic in their stature, benched on the edge of the straits, but difficult for the formal snap as the place was spread out.

a new brunswick biker gang pulls up and they are trying to decide who will take their picture. i volunteer apologising that i cannot translate -oh yes oh yes, make love to the camera - ouais ouais baiser le boîtier. i then make a snap of them while they do the same of me - this could be a new photographic trend.

they were the second encounter in merigomish again at a wharf one which was only a wharf and thus more haphazard, a fisherman asked where i was from - thinking me a tourist imagine. then heading out on the rocks i met two women as they were finishing up their fishing they wanted fish for dinner but only caught ones 6cm in length. they kept yelling for rocco. one was from nova scotia, the other her friend was up from toronto. rocco was on the other side of the rocks still trying. they had also wanted a snap of all of them and in my new capacity of tourist photographer, i obliged then bringing out to digital to record the moment for myself.

fancying a slurpee - it seems that it quenches thirst while the sugar gives me energy - gatorade for the maritimes - i stopped in lismore to phone the states saying where i was and to choose one where the colours weren’t so florescent.

coming out - don’t know why i didn’t see it going in - a ball park. one that looked like it was marginally used but not in any official capacity.

found another in arisaig this having the added attraction of a church behind home plate. it seems that ball parks would be added to list of things that cause me to stop.

i don’t like how i can turn everything into a strategy but i know that i am at fault. leaving the machine now i look around for people, if there are any i take ziquinho and the digital, if i am alone -stopping on the road - i pick up ubirajara and leave everything else in the car.

malignant cove didn’t live up to its name.

at first ‘bira was a problem, heavier noisier, it didn’t fit my more and more misguided notion of photography as note-taking. like note-taking with a mont blanc. but like last year i like using it as there is nothing in the viewfinder and i am so lazy that i tend to examine the light rather than pull out a light meter. the viewfinder in ziquinho is brighter but laden with lines and the like. i also find - after denmark - that i am second guessing the exposure.

the new method of exploration here was looking for loops, better than looking for wharves as i don’t have to retrace my way. pulled into one to find a series of shoes hanging on the line to dry next to a simple framed house. hopped out. couldn’t tell if anyone was at home or not. no machine, but the doors were open. walked up determinedly so not to look at i was sneaking around made a few snaps and was going to leave when on the main road below heard two women yelling at each other. coming up the hill, i asked if they lived here and if i could photograph their clothes line.

thinking i was daft they thought i wanted to go further on their property and said go on up the hill if the machine will make it - i assured them that i only wanted their clothes line and brought out the bonne bay snaps to show them what i do.

they asked if the images were from ballentynes kept assuring them that they weren’t. asked if i were the new pastor over there as there are many up from the carribean now.
again i assured them that i was not the new pastor.

they went into the house, the dog they brought up from the beach stay with me.

for some reason i fixated on the clothes line kept running back to the machine to pick up ‘bira.

-he’s still making pictures. i’d hear from inside
i’d leave and come back walking around the line
-he’s back
-and with the dog - which wasn’t theirs.
i met their cat and finally after photographing their bench that overlooked the strait. i yelled that i was leaving.

ok i heard that there was a spot on the atlantic vision the newest ferry in the fleet. so while stopping only a few times i was trying to get to the causeway and cape breton so i could phone marine atlantic and reserve a seat. the line was engage - yeah i know later i heard that they were so busy that all the hold spot were taken.

decided to look for internet access so hitting port hawkesbury, i would ask in a motel if i could use their wireless connexion. found a phone first got through but was put on hold five minutes, ten minutes, when does one hang up, i reckoned i would wait until the top of the hour then try a hotel.

a person comes on
-hello welcome to marine atlantic. hello, hello.
and rings off.

race to a motel that has wifi make the reservation and to-morrow at 18:30 i’m sailing to the rock

-cue the ode.

it is illogical.

i won’t have any time there to do what i want. i shall barely have time to head over to bonne bay then over to the avalon before i have to return on the wednesday am ferry meaning leaving tues mid afternoon.

i am also beginning to hate the trans canada there. those stretches when you feel you are not moving between the wreckhouse and corner brook, between badger and gambo and when st john’s doesn’t doesn’t seem to get any closer.

but all the same.

so three days, two ferries, three islands.

i shall stop to-night when it gets dark and i hope it gets dark after mabou.
up the ceilidh trail no sooner than i am on it in craignish - than the mother lode of ball parks, overlooking the strait below the road there it is, from it another church, much time is spent there more time in judique. pass mabou as it is still light head to inverness in the dark with all motels full once again guess wrongly

once again in mooseland i head down to waycocomagh as hoping that along transcanada one of the motels will have a room.

to-morrow like the final day of the tour-de-france it can be a leisurely ride along the cabot trail down into north sydney.

wow b’y sorry i almost hit you. buddy says trying to turn into university.
but you didn’t and almost doesn’t count.

herman was chatting with his passenger when he started to turn. he was still distracted as here we were holding up traffic on a monday rush hour to talk. we made jokes about how his aim was awful if hunting only the target would be safe. he drives off almost hitting a couple now crossing.

-strike two.

i was ready to leave but had a few chores i wanted to do first one being find some decent pastry, i found that awful motel coffee filled me with enough anxiety for a good eight hours and i didn’t need the energy boost the double double provided until the afternoon.

i thought that circling the island might be a bit ambitious even if i didn’t take into account my constant stopping. i couldn’t decide whether the road not hugging the shore was a good or a bad thing. it meant being able to speed some distances -well not really as i was stopping at anything interesting not just what was along the shore - but it also meant risking a cul-de-sac hoping that there was something interesting at the end of it.

caught on pretty soon, if there was a provincial park at the end i gave it a miss, if there was a wharf, it was a definite trip. this decision did slow the trip a great deal as i started chatting with people along the way.

looking at a house across from deb who was born down the road but now lives in ontario, she told me that it was owned by someone who wants to pull it down as he wants to store his boats, the last person who owned, she said as she was leading in the house, kept racoons upstairs - she said it was their green gardens.

she was quite upset as it seems that someone had pulled out the bannisters.

remarked that i am surprised. the way that i saw the island going this would be some bed and breakfast or worse pulled down so that some resort village could be built. the owner had been approach but he wants it for his boats.

when she told me when she heard of my plans, that the area around cavendish is all tourist all the time - anne of green gables land. my resolve weakened. i had seen the wood islands ferry and it seemed that they was a place on the ferry out of north sydney.

the island was nice but as far as coastal drives it was pretty lacking - or it is my warped character for what they had annotated i had no interest in places of interest and their signs didn’t seem to show to points of habitation.

stopped again in annandale where craig saw me and stopped for a chat - even got out of his pick up so that i could photograph him. later he showed me a rarity - he says - a working fisherman. craig fishes tuna, crab, lobster. he also tells me to steer clear of cavendish but the rest of the north shore is ok. he also said when i leave the island take the ferry it runs every 90 minutes but wasn’t sure when.

one would think that i would become more adept at seeing and reacting to what i saw but the reaction time didn’t lessen at all. the working method was pretty much set stopped when i saw signs of sparse populations’ gathering points - ball parks out paced churches and community halls.

stopped at east point to add another eastern most point to the list of points made - passed mario lorde and his family on the way.

i had to stop at naufrage - simply because of the name - well worth it with the mix of traditional fishing village with tourist cafés and motels with a wind farm in the distance.

in saint peters after having a craving for a slurpee, saw an information centre - saw it as there was a house being launched but someone forgot about the power lines blocking all of st peters.

asked about the wood islands ferry she gave me a schedule it was leaving on the south shore in an hour - a bee line straight through the middle of the island - stopping only twice - making it with 20 minutes to spare.

at least it was a ferry i thought and it was the northumberland ferry lines was only missing a letter.

in the hotel in new glasgow phoned marine-atlantic about a space on the sailing to-morrow midnight.

sorry.

strike two.

wanting a coffee in the birthplace of confederation

-is that a mamiya 6 or a 7?
absorbed in my own thoughts it had to be repeated
-a 7 or a 6.
-a 6
geek boy seemed to be disappointed.
i had decided to stay in charlottetown, i was beginning to drive like an automaton, i would stop but there was this daze which was lengthening the already longish reaction time between sightings and reaction.

driving alone was good for thinking things through but i would have to spend extra brain cells remember my moments of brilliance.

i decided to stay to get some exercise walking, because the room was comfy and private and there was a washing machine.

i was out and about looking for a coffee that wasn’t from tim hortons. i had brought the globe and a series of postcards for things to do while having it along with a decent sweat roll. the search had become a wander as i making choices at corners not on which would lead to a possible outdoor café - did i mention that i had to sit outdoors?
instead i was choosing the way to go by which option would be more visually interesting. i realised this when i didn’t enter what looked like tourist land and instead decided to walk streets that were on the balancing point between rehab and the falling down. there were places that served breakfast - nice looking conveniences - but i only wanted a café au lait and some sort of pastry.

i had passed a place that held potential but there was only one table and two women were glued to the seats.

i prefer the six. i said as i collapsed the camera it is nice and portable. sam was drooling now, he wanted to handle it and i was teasing him. funny i had just seen this photo-imaging shop across queen street that made newfoundland imaging look like b&h in new york.

he wasn’t sure about the square, he is keen about photography to the point of calling himself a geek. his friends seem to sigh and they realise they are in for a long wait as we chat. i mention the joys of the 500mm lens which the seven doesn’t have in any useful way. i ask were he buys his film as he uses film and he points across the street

-they have three rolls of colour film.

we are standing in front of what seems to be a nice café where, i think, he and his mates were heading, in fact they have vegetarian items on the menu mention that i am looking for a coffee but although this seems fine there is no place outside to sit.

he mentions the place that i had just passed - ampersand - he works there. said that i was it but there were two woman out front in the only seat.

-one is probably my sister.

was going to show him what was done with the camera but it seems that i left my snaps in the room. we part and my search continues.

i think that i like the area that i am walking in, not the shops along richmond street which seems to be the fine dining ghetto. the street was closed and there were officially sanctioned musicians playing for the those dining al fresco.

a strange “fountain” from one of the sewer covers water is spurting up in three streams at first i wasn’t sure but i think that it was on purpose. there were also too many faux irish pubs.

did find the pizza that i was craving last evening. arriving and recovering from the shock of the room, i asked where i could find a pizza
-greco
-but isn’t that a chain?
oh well there is jake pizza by the needs convenience it is about a 10 minute walk
again i took the post cards and planned some quiet time having a pizza but while the pizza was good - it was decidedly for take-away and there were too many stung out teens wanting to use the toilets.

i was looking for a nice individual pizza with fresh ingredients and closer than than the suggested place.

but king street seemed to be this mix of live long residents coming up against the rehabbers.

ms. nichols comes out looking for her cat - and mentions the lovely weather. she has been in the neighbourhood since she was a child. she was born in the house in front of hers but her brother bought it - i think i passed it and it was now a bed and breakfast, a judge was buying a house around the corner.

we talked about sitting out front rather than out back,how neighbourhoods are safer. a white cat comes up who lives next door but is friendly enough to be picked up. it has an extra claw, she mentions the buddy across the street who when tired and the sun is on his side of the street comes over to sit on her chair.

her next door neighbour told her about people who were climbing on her roof. mentioned that this area looked more like the boston states than what i would find in canada, there seems to be this style of architecture that didn’t stop at the border. i remember seeing the same type of building in saint john.

under her siding the house was a log home, i was told.

she went in i went on still looking for a café

i was feeing selfish to-day as i didn’t bring out the digital much. i found that it is getting in the way more and more. i use it knowing how everything has to be instantaneous and thus it is used for the weblog.

while it works well with people i find more and more the almost invisible act an act that i was trying to make second nature has become a ritual.

now i am going to take two as i now i have to take the snap with both. they don’t keep the pose, i make an official one with ziquinho then bring out the digital to make snaps when we have started to chat again.

but to-day i was using the digital even more sparingly. walking i was away from photographing things and dealing more with situations. in cities without that infinite landscape situations are the norm but here i was making an effort to place the object in the formal integrity of the snap rather than allowing it the dignity when i am racing about in a machine.

i also was glad that i didn’t bring the deardorff, it is great for fixed photographs in a fixed place but in my indirect way of working of allowing things to happen. the initial photographs made would be the same but that snap that is around the corner, the chat with buddy who comes up would be lost. when a choice between the shortest and a more elongated walk would have to be made i would rationalise for the shorter. i had realised again that the best snaps that i make are around the corner from the one i was planning, not really 10x8 territory.

i head up king street bent on getting back to an place where i can find that outdoor café but still i divert. find a tim hortons, and its starbucklike alter ego - timothy’s head back to the room for more film then down university avenue and find beanz. i had made a direct walk i would have found the café in five minutes as it was the place was closing in 45 minutes.

-they’re falling apart, buddy says as i am watching the last innings of p.e.i. v. the ironmen from miramichi.

-yeah they should pull this pitcher also he is rattled now.
mentioned how i preferred this level of play as they are trying.
he mentioned hockey and how it wasn’t what it was,
- they should go down to twelve teams. buddy (forgot the player’s name) made eight million and scored eight goals, hell someone gave me a million a goal i sure enough would try and baseball is no better a winning pitcher who can only go five innings? the game is too specialised.

the stroll was turning into a loss i headed into victoria park to find a place to write the rest of the post cards but the benches were taken and the park itself didn’t hold any interest for me. did remark that there was a narrows but it was a pretty tame one.

-still using film? a park worker yelled out before he had to chase out some people who were in an off limits area.

i would walk back to the hotel, thinking the houses along brighton road quite respectable, but then at the sign that said i was entering the historic centre, i turned left to stroll once again.

-something smells around here are there any skunks.
-no that’s politicians.

splurged with hot and sour soup and stir-fried tofu with cashews at leo’s thai kitchen - quite good. then headed over to gahan house a brew pub that was well hidden in a restaurant. the beer was good but one should run when one has to wait to be seated at a pub. if not that the twee glasses should also be a signal. they are supposedly what is needed to savour the full bouquet but give me a pint glass.