| DAY 2 – SHELBURNE – Wind SW 0-1,
fine
and sunny.
Tropical storm Gustav has moved away
and been
replaced with total calm. We bend our backs to row the six miles out of
Shelburne Harbour, one of the great natural harbours of the world, and
a useful assembly point for the North Atlantic convoys of the last war.
Our destination is McNutts Island, which is strategically situated at
the
entrance to the bay.
 We land on a large shingle beach on the north west corner of the island to find ourselves in a mosquito free zone and supplied with enough driftwood to keep a bonfire going for weeks. It was here that Alan established his supremacy at building fires and also constructed a fine barbecue out of discarded lobster pots. We ate handsomely that night after trekking the 7 Km. length of the island to Cape Roseway, a steep and rocky shore dominated by a lighthouse. Nearby was a World War 2 gun emplacement, with a 15 inch monster of a gun which guarded the entrance to the harbour during the war. |
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He said our 10-inch duck guns are much larger than fowling pieces in the U.K. .. |
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| Addendum from local guide, Jim
Fraser, to
the photo above: After a 7 km. hike through the
woods,
we finally arrived at Cape Roseway. Beyond the cape, the ocean heaved
restlessly
to the horizon. A groundswell thundered upon nearby sea cliffs.
Surrounding
the lighthouse lay the empty homes and buildings of a once substantial
island community. Dark gaping holes replaced doors and windows in the
deteriorating
and abandoned structures.
A complex somewhat melancholy atmosphere permeated Cape Roseway. On one hand, the eternal power of nature was embodied by the restless ocean encircling the cape, and on the other hand, the transient nature of man was symbolized by the hamlet disintegrating on the cape. The three Brits were overwhelmed by the significance of this inspirational vista before them. I heard them gasp deeply - then whisper in unison: "Bloody hell - the pub is closed!" |