Photography exercise: Textures of water

This post is just an excuse to show off some photos I took the other day. We were down at Middle Cove hunting for capelin (more about this hopefully in an upcoming post) and I took the opportunity to chill on the beach and practice my photography skills. Enjoy.

Searching for capelin.

Santa Claus' summer job.

Playing with long exposures.

Going the other way with fast shutter speeds.

Pockets of the pebbles under the water.

Foamy.

The more photos I take the more and more I enjoy it, and the better I become. Please comment and let me know what you think!

On the wrong side of the road

When I moved to Newfoundland, I had no great hopes of people coming to visit me. It costs a lot of money to get over here and there are far more exotic/sunny places for people to spend their hard earned money on. Imagine my excitement when my best friend told me she wanted to come over.

One of the prerequisites of visiting Newfoundland was a willingness to rent a car and to drive. On the other side of the road. A side effect of me not being able to drive on any side of the road, and the lack of public transport to get you anywhere other than St John's. Man, I miss trains.

I had ordered the weather especially for Emily's arrival, primarily to ensure that she was able to land, but also for aesthetic reasons. Anywhere looks better when the sun is shining. As she emerged from the airport to blue skies we made quick plans with our helpful Latvian chaffeur to go down to Cape Spear to see the arched iceberg that I had heard a lot of hype about. We arrived to a stream of cars parked on either side of the Cape Spear road and an impressive chunk of ice.

A huge iceberg with an ever growing arch. Tour boat for scale.

Partners in crime.

Sunshine, icebergs and fog. Newfoundland in one shot.

A little revision/learning of the road signs of Newfoundland the night before prepared both myself and Emily for our road trip. First stop Bonavista, where I had seen icebergs a few weeks previously. The weather wasn't great (I could only reserve the good weather for a couple of non-consecutive days) but it was dry, which is the most you can ask for. When the icebergs are around, the weather stays grey and cold unfortunately. The 300km drive ended with some awesome icebergs, bracing winds, and a suprisingly precisely timed appearance from a gathering of puffins.

The Dungeon. Small English girl for scale.

An array of different shaped icebergs,
one curiously resembling either a Muppet or a dog.

The wonders of puffins attempting to fly.

The following day after a typically Canadian breakfast of pancakes, maple syrup and bacon for Emily, and a tasting of some of the 42 homemade jams on offer at White's B&B we headed back towards the Avalon with a couple pitstops along Bay de Verde.

The Spirit of Harbour Grace, commemorating Emelia Earheart's maiden
female solo flight across the Atlantic, setting off from Harbour Grace itself.

Day 3 was dedicated to the Irish Loop. I've (been) driven down the eastern coast about as far as Renews, but I've always wanted to explore the southern Avalon. Unfortunately Mistaken Point was a no go. The tours aren't running at the moment and the roads are in really bad condition. I will get there before I leave though! Most of the way down the loop is typical Newfoundland landscape of trees and rocks, but you pass a point down past Cappahayden when the trees disappear and you are in the barrens. Civilisation seems a distant memory. After popping into the Mistaken Point interpretation centre at Portugal Cove South we drive on past Trepassey and stopped for lunch near the St Shott's Rd. The silence was deafening. It was fabulous. We were expectantly hoping to see caribou but the lack of wildlife made the experience all the more great. It wasn't completely devoid of life however. As I was filming a panorama an unidentified bird got spooked, made a funny noise and flew away. No idea what it was.

Nothingness.

Always wanted to take one of these.

Never devoid of human activity.

We also stopped at Cape Spear again to check on the arched iceberg from above.
These were the remains.

Day 4 saw our shortest trip, exploring the northern Avalon as well as popping into The Geocentre (Emily is a geologist at heart). The sun decided to pop out in the afternoon so we got a great view from Signal Hill to finish the day. Overall driving total was ~1100 km. Great job Em, and thanks for doing it again!!

Naturally a Screech In was in order for the Friday night. Bologna was eaten, cod were kissed and rum was drank. Another Newfoundlander was inducted. A night of spending all my Loonies on the jukebox ensued and involved a trip to the poutinerie. Walking home as the sun started to make an appearance ended a typical Newfoundland night out. Definitely wasn't an early one.

The last thing on the list of things to do was the Signal Hill hike, and Sunday was a perfect day for it. Around The Battery, up to Cabot Tower and then over to see the growing eagles, before dropping down into Quidi Vidi village, an impromptu lunch at Mallard Cottage, washed down with a brewery tour, rounded things off nicely, and ensured that Emily hadn't brought her hiking boots out with her for nothing.

Stunning day.

Difficult to understand the scale of these two things floating in the ocean.

Eagles are growing with every visit.

Love these stilted houses in The Gut.

Great beers from this place.

Things we learnt on this trip. Puffins can only fly anti-clockwise. There is no such thing as too much jam. Beach sediments are exciting to both geographers and geologists alike. You can play Ed Sheeran's "Sing" too much. Ivica Olić isn't a scary Croatian to everybody. How to say condominiums. Poutine is only good when there is still cheese. English pubs should always have hunting wallpaper. Iceberg beer tastes of nothing. I love my friends (well I didn't learn this, but the trip did reinforce it). Thanks so much for coming Emily.

Not-so-bald bald eaglets

Just a quick post today about the latest new residents of Signal Hill. Around the beginning of May a returning pair of Bald Eagles made a nest on the cliffs just off the Cuckold's Cove trail between Signal Hill and Quidi Vidi. Eagles aren't that exotic to some people ('Merica!) but I got very excited and hiked up to see them. Walking down from the Signal Hill side (the easiest direction to do it in), I asked my friend Tijana (who had previously seen them) where exactly the eagles were. As we started our descent the answer became apparent; where the crowds of people with zoom lenses were huddled.

One of the eagles in its nest, May 10th.

There location was also demarcated by "Bald Eagle breeding area" signs, and yellow triangular signs warning people not to go near the cliff. An excellent move on behalf of St Johns in my opinion, as common sense isn't as common as we would all like to think. The nest is a fair way out as expected, really testing the x35 optical zoom on my camera, so getting any closer than the trail is dangerous, stupid and nigh on impossible.

Devoted ornithologists have since become a near permanent feature in one particular spot on the trail, and in the last week it broke on social media and various blogs that two chicks had emerged from the nest. Cue another impromptu hike through this beautiful town. I was worried, walking up this time from the Quidi Vidi side, that I wouldn't be able to see it as it was a foggy day out to sea, despite the sunshine in Downtown. Thankfully my effort wasn't in vain, and the fluffy eaglets were plainly visible.

Nest and proud mother on sentry duty.

Two grey fluffy blobs.

It'll always be cool to see an Eagle.