Up west

On a recent excursion west of Summerside, my husband and I visited several of the areas we love on Prince Edward Island and visit at least once a year. Islanders refer to this part of PEI as up west. Our first stop was in the Northport area which is on the northwest coast of the province.

The boat basin at Northport was empty since the fishers were lobster fishing. However, it looked like a school of fish was cruising in the harbour and gulls and cormorants relocated around the harbour after them. The lighthouse, now in private hands, stands out against the horizon.

We continued on to Tignish Run at the northwest tip of the island where the boats were out to sea as well. The run provides calm water for the boats to tie up along the wharves. 

At the end of the run the water is rough, as the gulls maintain their vigil, waiting for the boats to return and provide food. 

You can see one of the boats enter the run below.

We walked along Tignish Shores nearby where the red sand beach was covered in seaweed of various colours. A beach has its spring colours too.

Finally we had a picnic lunch in the yard of the church at Kildare Capes where birds serenade us from their lofty perches. 

Behind the church, along the shoreline, a sea arch is forming in the sandstone cliff. 

Such arches have a short life along the coastline these days, especially due to post tropical storms.

We will return to these locations before long.

Another day at the beach

We hadn’t been to Northport in a few years but it is a place we like to visit. On a beautiful autumn day, with a cooling breeze, we headed west to walk the beach and have a picnic.

Northport is in western Prince Edward Island on the north coast. It is predominantly a fishing area, but as is common on PEI, farming is part of life in the area as well. 

We walked on the beach and explored this part of west Prince County which didn’t experience the same fury of Fiona as did the east coast of the island. However, there was wind damage to some trees along the shoreline but this area, inside a sandbar, didn’t appear to have the storm surge like more exposed places.

There is always interesting driftwood along this shoreline, large trees which have come to rest on the beach where they are weathered by sun and sea.

Further along, another tree is determined to live in spite of its precarious position hanging across the beach. It continues to grow and the trunks are beginning to grow vertically from their horizontal positions.

The roots spread into the bank, providing enough nutrients to keep the tree alive.

From the point, you can see the oyster beds in the bay which the Double-crested Cormorants use as perches.

Meanwhile, in the opposite direction, near a cottage on the bay, gulls enjoyed lobster shells left for them to share. A Great Black-backed Gull, called out, while the darker young Iceland Gull picked the shells. Herring Gulls appeared to be enjoying the shells too. 

We stopped by the wharf where four men were fishing with a rod and reel, landing small fish for supper. 

There was a lot of activity in the boat basin as well. 

Off shore, on a sand bar stands the old lighthouse, now privately owned.

Since it was windy, we drove further along the coast to find a sheltered spot to have lunch. We decided on the yard in front of Christ Church, nestled among the trees. After a quinoa salad and hot tea, we explored the area, visiting the cemetery which has been in use since 1850.

Some of the evergreens surrounding the cemetery were covered in vines which were dressed in their autumn colour. A path through the trees led to the Kildare Capes, an area we will explore further another day.  

After lunch, we headed further up the coast, but that’s another story.

  

Northport spring

The port was busy with boats returning with the day’s catch. We watched as they sped through Alberton Harbour, past the old lighthouse, now privately owned, 

and slowed as they neared the entrance to the boat pond.

Inside the pond, 

each boat tied to its berth at the wharf and unloaded the catch. Lobster doesn’t come any fresher.

The fishery is highly regulated and monitored on Prince Edward Island to ensure its sustainability. A Fisheries and Oceans vessel launched 

while we watched and headed out to the fishing grounds. 

It was a sunny day, though cold enough for winter clothing. Nearby, on a sandspit, my husband and I had our picnic, using the car as a windbreak. Two vehicles were parked nearby. While we ate, a small boat pulled up and two oyster fishermen came ashore to have lunch in the warmth of those vehicles. 

It was too cold to eat in the boat on the water.

Nearby, a Greater yellowlegs was unperturbed by the cold or the activity on its little stretch of sand. It waded around in the rising tide, calling out to its friends.

That day, we watched the interaction of humans and nature as it unfolded around us and relished every minute. 

Lunch at Northport

It is a tiny strip of land which juts into the water at Northport. Every year my husband and I visit this place and have a picnic. We are early this year. The far western portion of Prince Edward Island still has lots of snow, so our picnic was among the melting drifts. While the breeze was cold, the setting was invigorating. 

There is nothing like a cup of tea in the great outdoors. Today, the heat of the mug warms our hands. We enjoyed our sandwiches as if they were a gourmet meal, the bread made the previous day. We listened to the lap of the water and the birds. No need for conversation.

The gulls were busy around the water, talking to each other while we enjoyed lunch. Normally, we watch the boats go by too, but we are a few weeks early this year. In the distance we can see the activity in the port around the wharf as fishers prepare for the season.

Then a group of three juvenile bald eagles take our attention. The eagles circle the area, scanning for any movement on the sand or in the snow. They cross the water and disappear on the opposite shore for a few minutes but come back again. Two circle each other closely in what could be an aggressive move, then disappear in the trees nearby.

One reappears and plays with a sea gull. They circle each other high above us and take turns chasing each other. They glide on the breeze sometimes, in an effortless use of the air currents. They are birds at play.

You couldn’t pay for the experience.

The harbour

During our picnic on the beach at Northport, Prince Edward Island, we could see the boats and the wharf in the distance. We looked forward to exploring the area before we headed home.

 

The wharf at Northport in Cascumpec Bay, was quiet by mid afternoon with one pleasure craft headed into the bay.

 

Fishers pursue a variety of species out of this port, including, lobsters, mussels, snow crab, scallops, cod, herring, mackerel and more. Their vessels were tied up by late afternoon.

 

The lighthouse in the distance, 

 

built in 1899, is privately owned today, 

 

taken out of service and replaced by the range light on the opposite side of the harbour.

 

As I walked along  by the port, I thought of my grandfather, who fished out of Petty Harbour, Newfoundland, commonly known as The Harbour, when I was young. He was up at four a.m. during the fishing season, had breakfast and was out on the water at daylight. When he arrived home, I was getting up and he prepared our breakfast. I loved those times with Granda. He was the age I am now when we shared those special moments.

While he didn't do other meal preparation, that was Nan's domain, Granda cooked a great breakfast. He made toast over the wood stove, taking up a damper of the stove and placing a rack over the opening to the flames. Nan's homemade bread was cut thick and slathered with fresh butter, none of that margarine stuff. Jam and molasses were the condiments, or toast with bacon and eggs.

Granda often watered salt fish overnight. He'd wrap it in wet newspaper and place it down on the coals in the stove. When steam rose from the stove, the fish was done. I didn't like the idea of the fish in newsprint and never ate that meal but Granda always made something for me.

He often hummed as he worked and I set the table. "It's ready now, Maimie Bow," Granda would say as he took up breakfast. Maimie Bow was his nickname for my mother, his only daughter and I inherited it. Granda was the only person ever to call me by that name. On this day, a lifetime away in another harbour, I miss him.