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I’m up and at the ferry for the 8 am departure. The bay is calm but as soon as we get past the point into open water, the wind and waves hit head on. It’s cold but I have to stand outside to keep from getting sea sickness. The boat dances, smashing into the waves and kicking up a spray that washes across the deck. It’s very exciting! It’s also a little bit frightening. We’re not alone out there though; we pass a number of tiny dories, bobbing crazily up and down, disappearing from view in the troughs, soaring up to the sky to sit momentarily on the crest of a wave, and plunging back down again. Their occupants sit calmly, fishing. What balls they have! As we dock in Rose Blanche, the deckhand casually mentions that there is a storm coming. 

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I'm a bit stressed about the return trip, the sky has gone dark, the wind is against me and those hills are still there. But it’s actually a lot easier going back than it was coming and I make it to town in good time. I have the day to kill before my ferry home tomorrow so I head to the library. I check the Environment Canada weather and there is a red bar across the top of the page - a rain and wind warning! Holy smokes, if they need to give a warning in Newfoundland this is going to be ugly. I can’t camp out at the landfill again; there is too little shelter there. I check the hotels but they’re all full; what to do? 

I scout out the area for some shelter. There is an old train station, now a museum, right near the library, with a large parking lot and a gazebo with a sign saying ‘No Camping’. “Who cares?” thinks I, the gazebo has, at least, a roof, if not walls; this might have to do. The shitstorm is supposed to happen at any time so I hang about all evening close to home. To keep out of the wind I go shelter behind the old station. And there I find a little nook, completely out of the wind and under the big overhang of the station roof. This is it then, my home for the night. I set up, hidden in plain sight, except for when it gets dark, in which case I  will be just in plain sight - there are two 1000 watt security lights right above my head.  Anticipating when I will have to take a whiz in the middle of the night, I wisely decide to set nearby a pee bottle, which I don't have. However,  I do have a plastic yogurt container that I have my morning granola out of...OK, OK, I know, too much information.

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A Goodbye Kiss

My tent is in such a sheltered spot that I had barely noticed any rain or wind all night. When I peek out of my tent in the morning, though, I see everything is dark and gray and that the field in front of my tent is now a lake. I emerge and cautiously peer around the corner. Whoa! How do you say ‘holy shit’ in Newfoundlandese? It’s coming down in sheets, horizontally; the roads are totally awash, cars sending spray six feet high. Bloody hell! My ferry home leaves in a few hours; I have no choice but to get out there for one final battle. It’s my goodbye kiss from Newfoundland.

Hours later I’m on the ferry, dry, warm, safe, and happy. I’ll still have over 400 kilometres to go after I land in Nova Scotia but it worries me not in the least; it’s as good as done. I’m ready to relax and enjoy!

Oopsie, the captain just made an announcement to expect rough seas on our journey today! It seems Newfoundland is not going to let me go without the last word.