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magazine / oct09
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October 2009 issue |
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FEATURE
Northern Peninsula (Page
2 of 4)
Newfoundland's Northern Peninsula is a region of depleting human and natural resources. Just the sort of place for a fisherman to be reborn as Bjorn the Beautiful.
By Russell Wangersky with photography by Ned Pratt
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Antlers mark a seaside fishing shed.
Photo: Ned Pratt |
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The rest of Newfoundland might talk about
Confederation in 1949 as a turning point but on the peninsula,
1962 is a more important milestone — the year when
Route 430 was finally built. Route 430 is the two-lane
highway from Deer Lake, in the south, to St. Anthony, in
the north, roughly 300 kilometres in all. Its arrival strung
together small isolated towns like pearls on a necklace.
Before that, the only travel from places such as Green
Island Cove, Flower’s Cove and Nameless Cove had been
by coastal boat.
| Cliff Doyle figures there were 12,000 fishermen on the peninsula
before the cod moratorium was announced. These days, only a few
thousand fishermen and a handful of processing plants remain. |
Also known as the Viking Trail, Route 430 runs the spine of the peninsula, roughly bookended by Gros Morne and the
1,000-year-old Viking settlement at L’Anse aux Meadows. It is a drive I am looking forward to. Heading north from
Deer Lake, I expect to be treated to a lush cinematic scene: to the left, the Gulf of St. Lawrence; to the right, the
Long Range Mountains; everywhere else, flat ledges of rock running down to the sea.
Some 80 kilometres from Route 430’s starting point, I arrive in Norris Point, population 785, a town of lush hills
and narrow grey streets, with occasional grey shale cliffs poking out along the shoulders. I head to the top of one of
the hills to reach Sugar Hill Inn, an upscale hotel owned by Sexton and her husband Vince McCarthy.
The inn is a sprawling building with a welcoming wraparound porch and green and rust-red clapboard set off by purple doors. The
front looks down toward the bay, and the 11 guest rooms look out onto a hillside of balsam fir. Downstairs, the lobby
smells of fresh paint and new birch flooring. To the side is a small room that serves as a gourmet food store. Sexton tells
me that her husband has a passion for fine food and wine, and the store is one way to scratch that itch.
As a dental student at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Sexton came to the Northern Peninsula on a lark, even
though she had already promised to join a classmate in a St. John’s practice.
“My last year at dental school, the Newfoundland government sent a letter to all the Newfoundland students who
were graduating that year saying, ‘There are a bunch of places in Newfoundland that really need a dentist, and if
you’d like to go look at some of these places at no obligation, we’ll pay the cost of going,’” says Sexton, her face and
intense eyes framed by long brown hair.
Hmm, she thought at the time. A free trip to Gros Morne.
“On the hill coming into Norris Point, I gasped and said, ‘I feel like I’m coming home.’ An hour or two after arriving
here I had office space and a place to live, so I went back and cancelled everything for St. John’s.”
That was 27 years ago. In Norris Point, Sexton works with with local development groups and festivals, pushing to
convert a former cottage hospital into a wellness centre, fighting for high-speed internet and
library space — in short, trying everything possible to boost the struggling
economy. And for fun, she will perform a comedy routine or two at local events.
Despite the challenging times, the houses in Norris Point are well built and cared for. “Most people built their own
homes,” says Sexton. “They cut logs, built the places with their brothers or fathers. Very few of them have mortgages.”
Her friends have built a cabin in Bonne Bay in just that self-reliant way. “At Christmas, she might give him a couple of
sheets of Gyproc, and he might give her a couple of gallons of paint. This is how they dealt with gift giving, birthdays
and anniversaries. Now they’ve got a lovely spot.”
| Comments on this article | Leave a comment | As a person who grew up on the Great Northern Peninsula and have seen the place go through many ups and downs. I can say that it is a very desolate place since the cod moratorium. I don't know why some people, who obviously live inside the overpass of St. John's, think that this province is booming when others are living hand to mouth. This is once again a great demonstration of the arrogance of the "big city" towards rural NL. And thanks to that attitude of our present government, thinks are not likely to change anytime soon! I don't have to priviledge of moving back home because there are no jobs, so before you make such asinine comments, why don't you do your research first! I am proud of this article and it lays out the facts very well! Good job and lovely pics of the coast.
Check your facts, the northern cod fishery was closed in 1992 with a complete moratoriam in 1993 of the Gulf (of St Lawerence) which the northern penninsula borders. You only missed by 10-11 years. I would expect better from your magazine.
We own and operate two bed and breakfasts in Dilod, NL and we certainly acknowledge the transportation issues that we face each season for the traveling public. However, we find living on Trinity Bay in a rural outport to be one of the best kept secrets and best places to live in Canada.
Jim, I must say, I totally agree with your comment. When my husband and I read this article, we thought, wow, this guy didn't do his research (and we can't believe Canadian Geographic published it). The article is like a tired, lazy attempt to write a story, which draws on old, tired stereotypes of NL. There is a more accurate article in the National Post, which states, "One would have to be living under a rather large rock - the size of the province itself - not to be aware of the current economic boom Newfoundland is experiencing". Well, I guess the author of this article is living under a rather LARGE rock. He paints NL as a desolate, dying province, and barely makes mention of the current economic boom it's experiencing (and yes, it's effects are felt on the West coast too). And anyone who knows anything about NL, knows it is no longer the poor, desolate province it once was. I mean really, if you're going to publish a story, do your research first!
Much of the information in this article is outdated and incorrect. Some of the photos are several years old. I would have expected better from both Russell and Canadian Geographic.
It is a truely wonderful area to visit. Sadly, there is little bus transportation available, cars are nearly impossible to rent during tourist season, and the railroad was decommissioned. Until Newfoundland addresses its transportation issues, this region will only receive a small portion of its potential visitors.
Wow, your take is quite cynical., not to mention inaccurate. Gros Morne and the Northern Peninsula are wonderful places to visit,and live.
Got to say some of your take on the economics of the area are a bit tired and out of touch. Working in western Canada has been around for ever. A jewel of an area ,you really need to go back and dig a little deeper in your reporting. Not sure what you mean by depleted resources?
I climbed Gros Morne for the first time this July. The views are spectacular. Newfoundland's West coast is a jewel — and the provincial park in Pistolet Bay is superb for camping (but bring a sweater).
My wife and I just returned from a week long adventure in to L'anse aux meadows. it was a great trip. Highly recommend it to anyone. However, the season is very short and the sites are mostly closed now, so book early and head out there next summer!
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