Windsurfing with icebergs

Ode to Newfoundland

-- Sir Cavendish Boyle, 1914

When sunrays crown thy pine-clad hills,

God guard thee, Newfoundland.

These words written by Cavendish Boyle in the early part of the last century are probably the most famous and extensively known words written about Newfoundland. They best express the deep love that Newfoundlanders feel about their native land. They also reflect the feeling Eric Girard and I felt after our fantastic visit to this great land.

Newfoundland, for those who don't know and I suspect that even includes some Canadians, is located off the East Coast of Canada. It's an island half the size of Great Britain, and has a population of nearly a half-million people. Newfoundland has the oldest and most extensive history in all of North America. At L'Anse au Meadows in the North of the island there is the only authenticated Viking settlement that dates back 1000 years. St John's is the capital of this Canadian province. Its name was derived from the feast day of St-John the Baptist, because on that day in 1497, John Cabot the explorer sighted the New-Founde-Lande. Newfoundland has the oldest European settlements in North America dating back to the early 1500's. The first settlements were English, Irish, and French fishermen and whalers who arrived to fish its abundant waters. It has since grown to be one of the most spectacular locations to visit in all of Canada.

A couple of years ago, Eric Girard, while still living on Maui, told me of his dreams and plans of windsurfing near and around icebergs. I thought he was a little crazy, especially after experiencing the warmth of Maui's tropical trade winds. I asked him where he would like to do this and he told me he had heard Newfoundland had icebergs every spring. Being Canadian, I had heard of Newfoundland, but had never dreamed that I might be visiting this unknown and distant island. I often heard jokes about "Newfies," a not so endearing term used by Canadians for Newfoundlanders. Many Canadians see it as a backwater land, where the people have a peculiar accent and are, at best, unsophisticated.

When Eric spoke to me about taking this trip, I was very skeptical and a little afraid. After living on Maui for 15 years and almost exclusively traveling to exotic tropical destinations, I was afraid of the cold and isolation for which Newfoundland is infamous. I would soon find out that my fears were mostly unwarranted. The trip that Eric and I would be taking would begin in my hometown of Montreal and wind its way across Quebec and the Maritime Provinces before a ferry ride would take us to Newfoundland.

Our journey to Newfoundland began with the anticipation of a 14-hour ferry ride across the often-rough waters of the North Atlantic. The ferry departed from Sydney, Nova Scotia, a depressed and dying mining town in the north of Nova Scotia. We were anxious to get out of Sydney and started on our journey to Newfoundland. To the both of us it would feel like a journey to a New-Found-Lande; a land of riches, laughter, wonder, joy and magic, not to mention great windsurfing.

Both Eric and I had spoken of our expectations of Newfoundland, and we had come to an agreement that our expectations would not at all resemble the reality of what we were about to encounter. Before leaving Maui, I had tried to do a little research on Newfoundland; to see what we could expect and maybe find a few images to stoke my creative fire, but I found very little information and virtually no pictures. I was sure Newfoundland was a giant rock with little to photograph and even less to experience, except, perhaps, the cold.

Fifteen hours later, sleepless and having braved the cold North Atlantic, we finally arrived in the port town of Placentia on the Avalon Peninsula, one of the many strangely named towns that we would come across. The fog was thicker than the proverbial pea soup as we drove the van off the ferry. From Placentia to St-John's, our planned destination for the first day, was a three-hour drive through some of the thickest fog I had ever encountered. I was sure the fog would clear just a little inland, but it wasnÕt so. Maybe we would get three weeks of fog with no wind and no images to make our trip successful. I was worried, but I decided to get some desperately needed sleep in the back of the van as Eric began the crossing of the Avalon Peninsula to St-John's.

We decided to drive to Signal Hill, one of St-John's most popular attractions and vista points. It's near the mouth of St-John's bay and overlooks the city and the perfectly sheltered harbor that attracted so many fishermen to call this area home. Driving through the city we soon realized that the people of St-JohnÕs did not fit the images of backcountry folk without any class and ugly looks. Quite the opposite, the city was full of well-dressed sophisticated and beautiful people. It also seemed that there were so many more women than men. Were the men all out fishing? Or was this a paradise for visiting windsurfers from a distant land. The city, too, was surprisingly beautiful, with its mix of colorfully painted San Francisco-style Victorian row houses, and a downtown of old red brick and stone buildings reminiscent of old Montreal or Quebec city. It was apparent that the city was old, but it was also well kept and clean as a whistle.

The view from Signal Hill was spectacular with the city, harbor and North Atlantic before us. The sky was blue and clear and the air was cool, but comfortable and fresh. After our long journey to get here we took in the scenery, got a few images and relaxed for a good while. We were both still exhausted from the ferry ride and the drive and needed the break. Eric, while researching the trip, had e-mailed "Brad," one of the half a dozen or so windsurfers that call Newfoundland home and the most avid of the bunch. Apparently, a dozen or so years ago, there was a healthy community of a couple hundred windsurfers in the area, with weekly regattas in the nearby "ponds." Unfortunately, like the rest of the windsurf world, that number slowly dwindled with so-called advances and prices of technical equipment that emerged in the early nineties.

We were hoping to get some wave sailing in Newfoundland to round out the whole trip and story, but the main purpose was to get back to the roots of windsurfing with cruising and light wind sailing - fun and adventure. With the recent advent of the Wide-Board, which allows you to reach planing speeds with as little as 5 or 6 knots of wind, we were certain that we would find enough wind to make this a fun and exciting trip. Especially since it seemed that the dreaded fog had cleared.

Earlier in the morning, Eric told me he had spotted an iceberg in a bay that was visible from the Trans-Canada highway about an hour or so outside of town. After our well-deserved break on Signal Hill, we wet back into town to get coffee and some food.

Eric tried contacting Brad to learn more about the location of the iceberg that he had spotted. He wasn't able to reach him, but we'd try again later. It was only our first day in St-John's and it looked like we might be able to fulfill Eric's dream of cruising on his windsurf-board next to an iceberg. He cautioned me that it appeared pretty foggy in that neighborhood, but we were here for an adventure and after our coffee and a quick check of the map we were off in the general direction of the iceberg.

We soon arrived at Conception Bay, not far from St-John's, and by then the weather had cleared. From the shoreline, we were able to spot a few icebergs some distance away. We decided to follow the enormous bay until we found an iceberg close enough to shore to take pictures, and with any luck, enough wind to cruise with a "berg." We learned that it is not every year that icebergs make their way all the way to the St-John's area, so it seemed that lady luck was on our side. Previous to arriving in Newfoundland we thought we might have had to drive several hundred miles north of St-John's to an area called iceberg alley near the village of Twillingate, but happily it was simpler than that.

A couple of hours later on the twisting roads of Conception Bay, we arrived at Bay Roberts, where the grandest sight of all, it seemed at the time, awaited us. A large iceberg, some 300-meters across, was apparently grounded, less than a kilometer offshore. And, it was windy enough for Eric to sail with his Wide-Board and his big sail.

The wind-chill off the water made the air considerably colder than at St-John's. We guessed the water temperature to be about 5 degrees Celsius, (it was actually closer to 3 degrees). Eric rigged his gear, crawled into his thick wetsuit and headed out as I put on my tuque and set up my gear to document images of Eric's dream of sailing around an iceberg.

We couldn't have happened upon a better location, Bay Roberts was oriented perfectly for the wind direction and the iceberg was accessible from both sides of the bay, and I had several good angles from which to shoot photos. I was still leery of shooting from the water. I'd be submerged up to my neck in water that was 3 degrees C. Another day, perhaps, would be better; after I had enough images in the can to warrant another angle and brave the freezing water. Eric sailed for an exhilarating couple of hours from two separate launch sites. I got a lot of the images I wanted for the conditions we had, and Eric only complained slightly of the cold water. He was used to it somewhat, however, because he often sailed in his hometown in early spring in similar and sometimes colder conditions. He exited the water so exhilarated that he could barely contain his overwhelming joy of having lived his dream of sailing around icebergs. He said that he got close enough to see some of the 90% of the iceberg that is underwater, and claimed the water was the clearest he had ever seen with visibility a good 30-meters.

Only a small portion of an iceberg is visible above the water (10% or so). His only worry that day were the large chunks of ice that were occasionally breaking off with a loud noise and a big splash that generated small waves. Later that evening we heard of a tragedy that killed three people just a couple of weeks earlier when a boat got too close to an iceberg, a huge piece broke away and swamped the boat carrying the hapless victims overboard. We also heard stories of how an iceberg can suddenly explode from thermal pressure or completely flip around in the water, carrying anything on the surface down a 100-meters or more in its wake. We weren't dealing with benign beauty here after all, (a large iceberg had sunk the Titanic, remember?) and Eric vowed to be a little more careful during his next iceberg encounter.

Returning, exhausted, to St-John's after an exhilarating day, we got in touch with Brad who, in typical Newfoundland fashion, invited us to meet his lovely family, eat dinner and stay the night at his home. It turns out that Brad owned the coffee shop on the main street in St-John's where we ended up having breakfast and great coffee every morning and most evenings that we spent in St-John's. It was the best place in St-John's to meet people, socialize, and find out what was happening. Needless to say, we slept extremely well and showed up at the coffee shop early next morning.

Even though the air was cold, I was glad to be here in July and not January. We arrived at the south coast a couple hours after leaving St-John's, only to find the dreaded thick fog, which normally shuts down any chance of sailing. There was a swell running, but only a small one, with the best waves being about knee high. The thick fog made it hard to see most of the coastline; we spotted a few potential surf breaks, but they would have to wait to be sailed and surfed another day. Eric thought the day was going to be a wash and he wouldn't get to sail.

But at Trepassy bay there was a small venturi effect from the narrow bay with a small cliff on the opposite side. Eric sailed through the thick fog and with the help of the Wide-Board and his big sail managed to reach planing speeds most of his session. Although it wasn't the best sailing session he had ever had, getting wet and sailing in conditions new to him were reason enough to be content. Brad's friend Beth, who had come with us to the south coast after a quick introduction at the coffee shop, invited us to stay at her great apartment just a few blocks from downtown St-John's. Eric and I had planned on camping most of the trip, but the generosity of the Newfoundlanders was overwhelming and they wouldn't hear of us being uncomfortable camping in the cold damp Newfoundland nights. We would come back to the south coast for more discoveries and hopefully some wave sailing.

The next several days were spent exploring the gorgeous scenery of the many villages, coves, wildlife, lakes and ponds of the Avalon Peninsula. There's some 9,000 kilometers of coastline to explore in Newfoundland, not to mention the vast interior lands, forests ponds and lakes. I shot great scenic images and Eric managed to windsurf everyday. We saw moose, caribou, rabbits and many different species of birds and eagles. It's a wildlife lover's dream come true.

Eric sailed bays in several ocean locations, some of which had whales frolicking in the distance, some with shipwrecks visible, a clear sign of the dangerous seas that surrounded us. You have to admire the fishermen that still work here, and those of days gone by.

The interior "ponds" (there are, literally, tens of thousands of them) had some of the best windsurfing conditions of all, with winds on a few days reaching 30 knots. The water, of course, is much warmer than the ocean and all Eric needed for comfort was a neoprene vest and swim trunks. Eric practiced his freestyle moves on the windy but smooth waters of these lakes and ponds of the interiors, surrounded by huge forest or the caribou's vast tundra lands. Sometimes you might see a fisherman on these ponds, but it's a vast resource for water and wind that mostly goes unused through the short summer season.

Most nights found us back in St-John's exhausted from our long days. We got ready for the longer nights with coffee and dinner. Our nighttime host showed us around and introduced us to dozens of people that helped make our stay memorable and eventful. We ventured to the south coast a couple more times in search of wind and waves, but without much luck. It always seemed to be foggy, and the waves never really lived up to the forecast. That is probably because of the Grand Banks, located 50 or so miles out, which make the area one of the best fishing banks in the world. It cuts down the swell size and power before it reaches the coast. ThereÕs lots of potential, with several point and beach breaks that must get epic during those big hurricane swells that move up the east coast of the U.S. in the fall. We did find a great surf spot where I got my chance to fulfill MY dream to surf Newfoundland. The last place on earth I thought I'd be surfing, if you had asked me a year ago. The waves were small and the water was cold but the setting made up for it all.

Talking to Brad in St-John's one morning, he told us that he had been contacted by a movie production company to serve as a stand in for a feature movie about a surfer from Vancouver Island, B.C. that falls in love with a Newfoundland girl and follows her back out to Newfoundland. They were now filming the last scene to the movie, where the guy goes out surfing near icebergs with his buddy (sounded like us, minus the love part). Well, we happened to be in town with surfboards and wetsuits, so why not take the opportunity to make a little money in the meantime, so we agreed to do it. It ended up being the best luck we had the whole trip. We ended up back in Bay Roberts at our original iceberg for the filming. It was a beautiful and very warm day (28 C-luckily), I convinced the director to use Eric, a windsurfer, in the background. Brad and I were the surfers doing the scene. I think we spent 3 hours in the water that day.

Half way through the day, a male Narwhal started following Eric around. Narwhals are small arctic whales that are rare enough in arctic waters, but near St-John's!? There hadn't been a Narwhal that far south in over 25 years!! It was following Eric sailing all over the place. Eric was a little frightened and bewildered at first, but soon realized that it was just being friendly. It ended up being around and near him for a good two hours. We were stuck filming and my camera was back at the van. I needed those images...this was unheard of, we were being paid and I couldn't just leave. Suddenly the production crew's camera broke, which gave me the perfect opportunity to run up the cliffside to the road, flag down the first car and recover my camera from the van. I paddled out on the surfboard and got Eric and the Narwhal to pose for me. I think the Narwhal even smiled for the camera. I reloaded my water housing and went back out to shoot another roll. By this time, the Narwhal had vanished back into the deep blue waters of Bay Roberts. The electric atmosphere of the encounter was overwhelming and once again we couldnÕt believe our luck. I think - I don't remember - I got pretty drunk the night after the Narwhal encounter.

The days and nights went by and our luck continued. Eric windsurfed the battery of St-John's harbor with no wet suit one day, it looked inviting, but can you imagine falling in 5 C water without a wetsuit? Eric said it was the most scared that he had been in his long windsurfing career. The Wide-Board came through for him once again and he barely got his ankles wet.

Later the next day, after another long night of partying and celebrating in town, we said goodbye to all of the great people we had become close to on this trip. We left with trepidation and sadness that all of this would soon be coming to an end. All that remained was the long cold ferry ride back to Nova Scotia. Newfoundland was a world of difference. It was different from what we had expected and different from the impression that other Canadians have that have never been here.

I'll tell you this, if you haven't been to Newfoundland, you haven't seen Canada. Go, bring your sailboard, and experience this place for yourself.

Many thanks to Brad, Dan, Beth, Lorne, and especially the coffee girls who always had a big smile and a warm cup of Joe ready for us.