Windy capes, short beds and haunted tales

Set out for Cape Spear just east of St. John’s. This is the farthest eastern tip of North America but the off-shore wind would have kept us in Canada if we’d wanted to go further! The woman in the gift shop explained that Cape Spear is the windiest spot in Canada but said “At least it keeps the mauzy weather away…” (Fog for the Newfoundlanders, like snow for the Inuit has many names.)
Walking through the bog forest that makes up almost half of Newfoundland, we came across ‘Butter and Eggs’ and ‘Striped Toadflax’ as well as hundreds of purple asters. Who would have expected so much colour? The lighthouse was beautiful against the blue sky and the small beds in the living quarters were explained by the fact that men in those days were 5’2” on average. The doors of bunkers built in the hillside during WWII are slowly rusting away. They never saw action and are summed up by the description of one of the soldiers stationed there: “We left it as we found it: cold, clammy, foggy and miserable.”
Deciding to stay in the St. John’s area for today, we headed to Signal Hill, the site of the final battle of the Seven Years War between Britain and France. Flagged messages from Cape Spear across the water were relayed to Signal Hill then to the fort below. It gave us a good vantage point to see the tiny “Narrows” that huge ships pass through to the deep harbour of St.John’s. The colourful, flat-fronted Newfoundland houses fill the hillside about the harbour in a haphazard patchwork.
Looking for supper, we walked through the old town of St.John’s. Almost completely destroyed by the great fire of 1892, houses with mansard roofs, considered more stylish than the flat-fronted ones, show the boundaries of the fire. Finally, after three disastrous fires, St. John’s was rebuilt with wider streets and more brick.
We found a restaurant that fit our criteria: must have water view and serve traditional Newfoundland food. Bill had deep-fried cod tongues with scrunchions (fried pork fat) and I had fish cakes (salt cod and potato). Amazingly (or maybe because of all the exercise we’d had) we ate every last crumb.
The night ended with the St. John’s Haunted Hike with the Reverend Thomas Wyckham Jarvis. We spent an hour and a half walking through back lanes, church yards and deserted grave sites of old St. John’s. The Reverend's stories backed up the histories I’m reading - you wouldn’t want to have lived here in the 1700’s. There were many sites for public flogging and public hangings - often attended by thousands and all in the vain attempt to keep the rabble in line. Much injustice to settlers continued for more than a century as Admirals preferred to keep the fishing grounds to themselves.
Ironic that this morning’s local CBC program included an interview with a representative of the local fishermen who say there are cod out there and the government is keeping it secret…..