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The more I kayaked past Newfoundland’s weathered coastline the more I wanted to get out of my boat and walk.

I wouldn’t call myself a kayaker. I prefer paddling a canoe, even if I do have to portage now and then. But I also wouldn’t consider myself a canoe snob either. Any soft-path vessel is fine by me as long as it gets me into a wilderness area.

If you recall, our last stop was in North West River. Although we had tentatively planned to leave there mid day, I often lose sight of time when I follow my nose so it was dusk when we bid farewell to this region and hit that long long (albeit relatively new) road to Cartwright. Did I say that road was long?  I should have known we wouldn’t get there before midnight.

“Elvis and Mavis” has many themes that will resonate with people from Newfoundland where the tug of the big city dreams runs full tilt into the living in the province’s rural areas. And in the 1990’s when this play is set, the cod fishery is gone so trying to earn a living in Newfoundland’s outports is harder than ever. Elvis (Colin Furlong) has just lost his job at the Roddickton fish plant and is frustrated with the general loss of control of Newfoundland’s resources so he decides to blow up the dam at Churchill Falls unless the unfair contract with Quebec can be renegotiated.

The autumn colours are usually at their peak over the Thanksgiving weekend in western Newfoundland but this year they seem to be lasting longer. Over the past few days we have been out kayaking down the Humber River and hiking through the fall splendour in the Humber Valley.

This is the iceberg season that just won't stop! The Petermann Ice Island which I wrote about in several earlier posts in mid August, 2011 is now making its appearance closer to Corner Brook. Not long after we were in St. Anthony the ice island drifted to the south and broke in half. These 2 pieces have been spawning icebergs that have now drifted into the Hampden area of White Bay.

At 7:30 am on Sunday August 13, 2011, I peered out the window at the Hotel North in St. Anthony and the fog was so thick I couldn’t see across the parking lot. “I guess our 9:00 am boat trip is going to be scrubbed,” I told my wife Heather. But a few minutes later she pulled back the curtains and said she could see across the harbour.

Saturday Stan and I had the good fortune to share some time with a humpback whale in Bull Arm. It had surfaced next to Stan about 200 metres away and before I knew it the whale was under me. I could see the white flippers in the waters beneath my kayak and motioned to Stan to come.