It seems that my virtual visa debit doesn't add up to a credit card, so I'm alittle unsure as to why my visa stopped working before but it meant that I couldn't book the ferry in advance. I considered calling my parents for a number just so I could use the ferry but decieded to test my luck showing up early for the ferry. I had checked the night before, usually days were booked solid a day or two ahead but it being monday must have helped. I got there hours early and was relieved to find that you can get on without a reservation space on the boat allowing. I thought the boat was big from the outside but going inside was blown away by its size. To help paint a picture, I arrived early and therefore got placed on the bottommost parking deck, deck one. When I asked where the topmost deck is to get off at, I am told 9, and deck 10 is the sundeck. The roof has a helicopter pad and each side of the boat carries two boats that almost like mini submarines and are seaworthy capable of holding up to 70 people, or so it says on the sides. I'm disheartened to hear that you can't come back down during the voyage and am torn as to what I should bring. I don't have a smaller bag to carry water or books around in, and really wanted to bring Natalia up. The thought of lugging around the case for the 6 hours trip was less than appealing, but I caved. I was anxious and sick to my stomach thinking about driving onto the ferry. A careless guider had driven the corner of Debb into the corner of a post and quickly became scarce when I did the trip to BC, the only time I've ever damaged my vehicle. But looking out over the ocean as we cast off and standing ten decks higher than my vehicle was parked, I couldn't help but grin like a bastard.
As always, having a guitar on hand has let me meet lots of people. Playing on the shaded side of the boat a few adults open up conversation and they are mildly baffled when they ask where I'm going or if I know anyone in Newfoundland. They seem to have the pride in me I can't find for myself, seems they are the side of the fence where it's good to do things while you're young. On the lower decks I explore a bit, lugging around my case. Earlier I had asked a nice looking working girl on the ship to watch my case as I went to the washroom and was informed that we aren't allowed to leave our belongings at any time. People are expected to rent cabins, a few windows with furniture near them even have small placement cards saying there's no sleeping allowed there. Crap. On deck seven I sit near a group of people my age pawing over a map, two guys and two girls. Half leave and in a bit I start talking to them. The whole groups hails from BC and are gonna move out to Saint Johns for the year. That's one of the coolest damn things I can think of. I ask them if Gros Morne is on their list of things to do and they say they had decieded against it because of the extra distance it would take and their budget. They ask back why I mention it and I say I haven't talked to one person about Newfoundland who hasn't mentioned Gros Morne and promsing I had to see it. As we're talking, a Newfie comes close and starts asking about where we're going assuming we're a group. The next ten minutes hes explaining the safe points on the highway for not hitting moose (nowhere) and a bunch of hiking spots around the area. This is before another Newfie couple enters the fray, having just returned from a two week vacation. Having been an ex tour informant and having friends all over the island and been all over the island she spends the better part of the next hour pointing at locations all over the map and describing the best things to see along with cultural facts and history. Its too damn much to remember is the long and short of it, it becomes apparent that they need a marker or something to jot down these places but we aren't allowed in our vehicles. My songwriting obsession saves the day as I have pens in my case. During this time another young guy comes up and sees we're around the map talking about the best places and becomes invested as well. Seven minutes later his father joins him at the side as well. The congregation of people feels ridiculous, and my head is spinning from the amount of information I'm trying to contain about this province, and am starting to feel mildly sick sitting in there. So I opt out and get some fresh air up top again.
The other young guy with his father is named Zack, I meet them up top. I'm up there for a really long time, the wind is cold but I brought my thin sweater and keep active playing guitar. I let Zack play for awhile too. On either end of the horizon a sun falls and the moon rises and the transition across the open sea sky thats nearly cloudless is beautiful. A lot of people go on the deck to take pictures of themselves in the sunset, or just the sunset, or just the moon. Zack's father has had Gros Morne on his lifelist for a time and they are gonna do it together, hes 55 and it's a big hike but he seems to know his stuff. They say I should busk, and I doubt it briefly. I'd already been playing for at least an hour, and singing without any liquid to clear my throat but I deciede to just do it anyways. There's something about the scene so breathtaking, the wind is powerful and every shade and colour from black to what remained on the sun in the horizon on the other side of the world was flaunting it's beauty. I wish I could keep this moment, I almost want to take as many pictures as I can desperately hoping that any would give it justice but instead I continue to busk, and just live in that moment. The colours change, the sun sets further and I continue to play. I get a few tips, from young girls, a man who asked if I write my own music and a handful of others. People who enjoy it take a seat or stand near, staring over the water. I meet another nice guy standing by who thanks me for the music and puts in a tip, says it does nothing but add to the moment we're all in pretty well. I feel justified, like in the back of my mind I have a strong suspicion that I'm just annoying everyone and am being collectively ignored. His name is Dave and hes traveling with his girlfriend Maya for a job oppritunity somewhere around Newfoundland. Hes in special effects, been from Vancouver to Halifax Montreal and here. Its funny where things can bring you. Most people go in now, the light is leaving the sky by the minute and the wind feels colder with each blow. My guitar begins to moisten and I know its best to go in.
I get a tea from the waffle bar and Dave invites me to sit by him and his girlfriend although I sit at a distance. I try and be humble and say that they're on a trip together and don't want to get in the way of them being a couple enjoying it. He's says that they're a couple all the time before laughing. That's what I get for being modest, so I join them. Zack pops a seat by later as well, we all talk about our trips and there's a few things about our lives thrown in there as we burn away what remains of the day. Lots of good jokes and good conversations before we part ways. Seems like everyone's heading to Gros Morne at a time or another, I hope as I say goodbye that I'll run into them again but I doubt it. I run into the four from before as we're waiting to get down to our vehicles, I make a couple jokes about the absurdity of waiting in line to use stairs, me and my humour. They invite me to camp out with them at Red Rock and I say I'll consider it, as I have no idea where I'm spending the night with the danger of moose on night drives. They're a good group too, all four of them are tight and stop and check out everything. They even have a dog in their travelling van that theyve mostly been staying in. They play music too but didn't want to carry around their instruments like I did. I get off the boat and drive out of town, I look over my Canada map and find Red Rock as my GPS can't. After some confusion I find it, the road doesn't even have a sign but I'm sure it's the right place. I see shadows of Newfoundland as I drive there on the highway, I can hardly see it but I can tell its breath taking. The road is unpaved and sketcky and for one reason or another the other group isn't around, but I don't mind. The road at a point runs beside the ocean and thats where I park, once again to sleep in moonlight. I arrange my vehicle for sleep and stay awake long enough only to make sure my spot sends my location to my parents. Reception isn't good here so I give it the full twenty minutes. I'm halfway to putting my food away when I notice movement outside my vehicle and I freeze.
Not five feet away a fox is standing by my vehicle in the moonlight, eyeing it down in interest. In this moment I wish like before on the boat I could capture it, I'd like to have a picture of the fox, or for it to come closer but I stay perfectly still, not wanting to ruin the moment I've been given. He idles for a minute before going down a steep slope towards the water. I realize thats probably the closest I will ever come to a non captive fox in its natural environment, quite possibly my favourite animal. I let that sink in.
Before the crazy traveling guide lady told us so much I had general plans, I would leave for Gros Morne this day but now I'm not so sure where to start. I wonder what this place will be like.
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