Boondocking by a Berg in St. Lewis

Days 18-20, June 6-8

The Newfoundland/Labrador tourism website includes a list of towns along “Iceberg Alley.” That list became our itinerary, from north to south, which is how we ended up in Labrador to begin with, and specifically in the little town of St. Lewis.

To get to St. Lewis requires driving 30 km of gravel road. Just before arriving, at the top of a windy hill, you are greeted by a “Wind Phone.” Have you ever seen anything like this?

Fisherman’s Point

We drove through town to the far end of the harbor, to a great boondocking spot at Fisherman’s Point. As hoped, we could see icebergs in the distance.

We took a walk past some homes, all of which seemed vacant. To our surprise the Mangrove Store was open.

We stopped in and had a long conversation with the owner, Phyllis Mangrove. She began the store 50 years ago and has run it by herself while raising five children. Plus a set of twins who did not survive. Her husband, Roy, was a fisherman.

The store shelves were well-stocked. We chose a box of cookies, and then, as we talked with Phyllis, I randomly plucked a can from a shelf. To my surprise it was escargot, imported from Indonesia. The can was so old it didn’t have an expiration date. We all laughed about that. Phyllis said she’s never tasted escargot, and wrinkled her nose. She insisted we take four cans with us, for free, as long as we promised to dump the contents if they were bad. (There were eight cans on the shelf, undoubtedly the full order from untold years ago.)

We paid cash for the cookies and went out into the cold. Phyllis followed us to the door and called after me: Would I like some cod? I said Sure.

So we walked next door to her home and she got the fish from her personal freezer. Her home was beautiful, with an open floor plan and high ceilings. She asked me to sign her guest book. One reason she loves her store is because she loves meeting people.

I also wanted to tell you that Phyllis’ big concern about being “alone on this side of the harbor” (when Roy is away) is polar bears. They often come through town.

Round Hill Pond

Saturday was cloudy and cold. We drove to a local park called Round Hill Pond. The boardwalk was in poor repair, with lots of litter scattered around. But the boardwalk led to a sandy swimming beach. The sand must have been trucked in, most likely at great labor. The scene was melancholy in the cold and wind, but I imagine it has also witnessed much joy. Perhaps they haven’t gotten around to the yearly cleanup yet.

Port Hope Simpson

We drove to Port Hope Simpson (remember the gas station?) where there were a number of yard sales. One advertised “Lemonade and Cookies” so of course we stopped. We bought a few treats from Peyton, who made them with his parents.

There’s one restaurant in town, Campbell’s Place, where we got lunch. Doug enjoyed a bowl of homemade turkey soup and I had a hamburger.

The tables were all occupied with local folk. I flirted with a toddler, and then chatted with his mom. She lives in the next town over, Mary’s Harbour. I said we’d be there soon, to go out to Battle Harbour. She said, “Oh, my sister works for Battle Harbour, you’ll meet her.” Which I later did.

Icebergs

Eventually Big Blue found its way back down the gravel road to Fisherman’s Point. This time there were three fellas out by the shed — most likely three generations. The middle guy greeted me with a big grin. “As soon as you left this morning, the fog lifted and there she was.“ He gestured to an enormous iceberg that was rounding the tip of the point. I gasped, which made him laugh.

He said, “I saw your truck down by Round Hill Pond and thought about stopping to let you know. I figured that’s why you’re here.”

All evening long, townspeople joined us on the point. We met Corey Elson, who’s worked for Fisheries for 20 years and was adept with his drone — even flying it through the arch of the iceberg. He shared the video with me. I posted it here.

Also met Elaine, a talkative, goodhearted woman who is passionate about her town, and gardening, and making everybody feel at home. We even dared to talk politics.

At some point in the evening it became apparent that the iceberg had stuck to the bottom — because it swung around, which was lots of fun to see. Icebergs look completely different from different sides.

Sunday, June 8

It’s a bit surreal to camp with an iceberg stuck outside your window. We kept checking during the night to make sure it was still there. Although, if it weren’t, what would we do? Enjoying an iceberg is a lesson in non-attachment!

The next morning a fishing boat came by to make a loop around the berg. It’s a good way to get a sense of scale. Also, notice how different it looks from this side.

Morning Hike in St. Lewis

The forecast predicted rain in the afternoon, so after breakfast we headed out on a hike. We walked past Phyllis Mangrove’s store, past a warning about bears, and up a long hill. The roadside became more and more littered and eventually we came to a garbage dump. No bears in evidence today. Beyond that was a satellite station, including a radar building that was abandoned decades ago, when the Cold War ended. A sign said “You are now as far east as you can drive on the North American continent.”

We took a boardwalk across the top of the mountain. Eventually we came to steep steps leading to a former community called Deep Water Creek.

All of this time, we were walking on the Canadian shield with a view of open water speckled with icebergs. Check out this heart-shaped pond.

We hiked three hours, from 9:30 to 12:30 and covered 5 miles, every step of which was either uphill or downhill. When we got back to Big Blue it was starting to rain, and our iceberg was waiting.