Je comprends un peu le français

My latest adventure was a well planned one, Approached by Hannah on what we should do in the 10 days she was back in Newfoundland between working up near the Arctic Circle, we devised an epic itinerary, the main excursion involving leaving the country. Well okay, I'm being a bit dramatic there, but it is true.

To paraphrase Wikipedia, Saint Pierre et Miquelon is a self-governing territorial overseas collectivity of France, situated a mere 20 kilometres off the Burin Peninsula of Newfoundland. The main reason that I had heard of for people to visit there was in order to leave Canada and re-enter the following day for purposes of visas or permanent residency. We however just fancied going for good french wine and good french food.

The plan: Drive from A=St John's to
B=Fortune where you then get the FERRY to St Pierre.
When we returned we would drive to
C=Terra Nova National Park and then onto
D=Dildo Run Provincial Park.

Whilst I was the only one of us in civilisation it was my task to procure the various items we would need for the trip. Good job I already had a 3-man tent. After begging, stealing and borrowing gear from friends we were set to go. We eagerly set out in our rental car, road map and geology map in hand, down the Burin Peninsula. The landscape was remarkably flatter and less forested than we were used to on the Avalon. We arrived in Fortune after listening to a Madonna-heavy mix CD and found the ferry office, where we presented our passports and paid for our tickets. Waiting down by the docks I was naturally excited. I was going on another ferry (see the previous post if you don't know of my love of ferries.) And then it arrived...

A streamlined French excuse for a ferry.
Not being allowed above deck upset me greatly.

To get over my disappointment I reminded myself that I was going to France. Somehow I had managed not to go to France in the time I lived in England, something I am determined to rectify one day. So the first time I was going to cheese-loving nation was via Canada. Unorthodox but I'd take it. Our speedy ferry got us across the ocean in no time at all, and after briefly seeing some dolphin-esque creatures swimming alongside us we landed on French shores. A quick check of our passports and we were let out into the Place du Général de Gaulle where it seemed the majority 6000 residents of the island had gathered to celebrate Bastille Day! After dropping our stuff off at our B&B we headed back into town to soak up the atmosphere and have a wander.

The Government office decided that one flag was not enough for each flag holder,
and for their national holiday, they needed five each.

Pointe aux Canons Batterie.

Cute lighthouse, with Iles aux Marins in the background.

The US Coast Guard were in on a training exercise.
Unfortunately we missed the opportunity to go on deck and have a look around :( 

We had built up quite an appetite by this point and eager to eat some fabulous food we headed towards one of the restaurants we had scoped out earlier. Getting in just before the rush, but narrowly missing the chance to sit outside on the deck, we sat down and ordered a rather large flagon of wine. After examining the menu and admiring the English translations (the "inevitable steak house" was a favourite) we ordered our food, sharing a starter of foie gras (while in France eh?), which was absolutely divine. After an eternity our mains finally came out and we were not disappointed; Hannah's grilled bacon and scallops came on an elaborate hanging skewer, whilst my lobster risotto had been accidentally upgraded to a lobster and crispy cod conconction that did not leave me missing my original order.

The Bastille Day celebrations finished with a cracking firework display.

The following day we planned to see as much of the island as possible so we promptly went down to the Tourist Office where they quickly sorted out a van tour and a zodiac tour for us. We whiled away the morning by visiting the Museum, where Hannah once again showed off her excellent grasp of the French language, before we realised there was English translations on the other side of the boards...It was well before this point that I had discovered that while my high school level of French from 7 years could have got me through the trip if needed (everyone spoke English anyway), I was very glad to have Hannah's conversational skills. The following day she even got interviewed for French radio! While I could often follow bits and pieces of what was being said, I have always dreaded speaking in a foreign tongue. I never sought to continue to learn another language when I was younger, and it is only know I realise it is something I should have done. This is yet another mistake I am willing to rectify.

I understood this road sign explaining how to use a roundabout though. 
"You do not have the priority" should be adopted as a life rule for everybody

This is the only guillotine to have ever been used in North America. 
That's an incredible fact, but unfortunately it is woefully advertised by the
 museum and currently hidden away in a forgotten corner.

Standard WWI War Memorial photo.

Pretty Cathedral.

On our tour of the island, with the southern shore of 
Little Miquelon off to the right.

The highlight of the trip was definitely our evening Zodiac tour. Kitted up in our warm waterproof suit we drove out on the water towards Grand Colombier to see some wildlife. 

Puffins! I discovered they are awful at floating starts, flapping furiously to try and generate any sort of lift. Funny watching them belly flop back into the water too.

A curious seal. We may have seen 3 seals, or this guy 3 times, we're not sure...

Yappy Kittiwakes, with that adorable ball of fluff in the top right being a baby one.

Razorbills, looking very similar to the Murres we also saw.

Birds taking flight as we crept up on them round the corner.

Grand Colombier, where off to the left we saw a Sei Whale, 
and off to the left we saw a Humpback right by our boat.

It was nice being out on the ocean. I need to go on more boats.

Buzzing from our tour, we dined on more delicious seafood before retiring to bed happy. The following day we were aiming to go on a morning tour to the small island of Iles aux Marins however by this point I was rather poorly with a kidney infection (unfortunately can't blame the French for that) so we decided a lazy morning was best. Packed up with the two bottles of wine each that we were allowed to take back to Canada, we travelled back to Newfoundland for the next stage of our trip.

We stocked up on food in Clarenville and proceeded to Terra Nova National Park. We arrived at our campsite to find a ranger just before he left for the evening. Having not seen anyone to pay our Park fees to we enquired, before being told that we were able to camp in our spot this evening and so long as we left by 11am the next morning when the other rangers come round to check we would be fine! Money well saved. We set up the tent and after eating as if we were still in France we relaxed in front of the campfire.

There is absolutely no reason why you can't have 
mussels and garlic sauce whilst camping.

Leaving the next day before 11am we meandered up towards Dildo Run Provincial Park (same place I was in my previous post), again making a stop at the chip shop with the 26ft lobster for a lunch of crab sandwiches. We spent the beautifully warm day literally chilling in our idyllic campsite, playing 2-man euchre whilst I was wrapped up in multiple layers trying to break my chill. Sausages on birch sticks and smores were on the menu for this evening. A proper day of camping indeed.

The evening saw a lot of rain and a lot of wind, leading to me to constantly worry as to the sturdiness of my $30 tent. Having only let rain in through the tiny gap between the fly and the mesh our shelter did its job superbly. We packed up camp as it was still raining and decided while the weather was poor and I was still ill ,we should head home instead of heading up towards Twilingate for another night.

We stopped at the Tim's in Gander for some lunch when we spotted some gloomy looking people trying to thumb their way to St John's. We re-jigged our stuff in the car in an epic game of Tetris and created space for the hitch-hikers. We picked them up, restoring smiles to their faces and the two Canadian grad students made for excellent company on the dreary road back home. As soon as they were excited and intrigued to see my geology map of the island I felt reassured that we weren't going to be murdered. After safely dropping them off with long lost relatives in St John's, our adventure was over.

Overall it was successful trip abroad with a jaunt around The Rock to boot, and despite me being less than healthy I had an enormous amount of fun. I had been to France for the first time. I ate foie gras for the first time. I had seen the joy of puffins trying to fly for the first time. I had camped once again in the changeable Newfoundland weather. And I had picked up hitch-hikers for the first time. Not bad. Not bad at all.

The joys of camping

I was reminded by a far away friend recently that I hadn't published a post for a while. Firstly I felt rather flattered that anyone had noticed that I hadn't posted! I also realised that the comment was absolutely true and I had actually a fair bit that I could talk about. So much to talk about in fact that I decided my Sunday evening would be best spent practicing my newly honed touch typing skills in writing about the goings on of the last 6 weeks or so.

As I have mentioned previously, Canadians are very good at taking advantage of scarce  good weather and having fun outdoors. One of the most effective ways of doing this whilst also taking advantage of the beautiful scenery of this fabulous country, is to go camping. The joy of being able to drive somewhere new, pitch up a tent and enjoy campfire banter with good friends is something I never really embraced back home for reasons unbeknownst to me. Thus, I have made the conscious decision to atone for this mistake, especially as I live in the gorgeous province of Newfoundland.

In a bid to make sure this new concept really took hold, I decided to make an investment. Not much of an expensive investment, nor a volumetrically large investment, but an emotional investment in that I would feel guilty in buying gear and then not using it. And so with a determined mind I set off for Canadian Tire (the Canadian B&Q if you will) and bought the $30 tent that had been winning rave reviews on their website. Now I should point out that I was under no illusions as to what to expect from a $30 tent. It is not the type of tent you would aim to hike long distances with, although it packs down surprisingly well for a 3 man. It's not the type of tent that you would want to use in particularly inclement weather. But for the purpose of the car camping trips that I will be indulging in for the next year or so I thought/hoped it would be adequate. 

 My humble 3-man abode.

And so I was prepared to go on whatever adventures those with cars were prepared to take me on. My first jaunt was a trip to Northern Bay Sands, a gorgeous sandy beach on the other side of Conception Bay. The weather was set to be beautiful on Discovery Day weekend, which also coincided with the appearance of the Super Moon. With the cars loaded with vast amounts of goodies from Costco we set off on like John Cabot himself to an unexplored (for us at least) portion of the Avalon. On the way the eagle-eyed amongst us spotted some whales out in the bay, leading to a road side stop with the binoculars. The sight of a couple of Minke whales had already made our trip worthwhile. We were not to know of the treats around the corner.

Arriving at the campsite we managed to snag a great pitch and after setting up we quickly headed down the matter of metres to the beach. With St Johns' rocky coastline largely preventing daily frolicking in the sea the lure of the ocean was too much for us to resist.

Embracing the cold water.

Demonstrating our strength in fighting the not-so-mighty waves.

Playing Viking Chess on sand is infinitely more difficult than on grass.

After drying off and eating our Costco marinated pork chops, we then noticed something out to sea. There was an abundance of whale spouts popping up further up the bay. Quickly we bundled into the car and drove down there, for what turned out to be a whale bonanza. A group of approximately 30 humpback whales just having a time. We couldn't believe what we were seeing. They were the first whales I had ever seen, and their abundance and proximity has forever spoilt my expectations. I had to stop excitedly clicking away on my camera and just take it all in.

They did not try and hide their location at all, with spouts continuously erupting from the sea.

Showing some tail.

They got pretty close to the shore too.

The excited crew with a spectacular view.

We returned to camp on a high where we then proceeded to eat our body weight in smores and campfire popcorn under the glow of the Super Moon. The following day we planned to tour around the peninsula and take in the spectacular scenery that the Avalon affords. So after eating our body weight in bacon/things fried in bacon fat we leisurely travelled north, stopping at various picturesque bays hoping to once again find some whales.

One of the particular charms of this particular parts of the world is the unusual place names. As mentioned we were on the other side of Conception Bay. Driving south down Trinity Bay you come across the consecutive villages of Heart's Content, Heart's Desire, and Heart's Delight. Out to sea is a small rocky island, naturally called Shag Rock. But then there is the crowning glory of weird place names. Dildo. The origins of the name are unclear but Wikipedia postulates that it may be related to the phallus-shaped pin in a row boat used as a pivot for the oar. However it came about, we couldn't not stop for a photo with the town mascot.

Captain Dildo and the happy travellers.

Our enthusiasm for camping after this trip was followed up by a more ambitious plan. A two-night trip further west for Canada Day weekend. And so a happy band of campers (ironically none of us being Canadian) headed off to Central Newfoundland and Dildo Run Provincial Park (surprisingly nowhere near the town of Dildo previously mentioned.) The weather wasn't looking too great on our way up and we arrived 5 hours later under grey skies. We wandered around the beautiful inlet at the campsite and I tried to make the best of the weather by playing with my new fancy camera. After a brief rain shower the sun came out to play and after a feast of everything-smothered-in-garlic-butter we settled down ahead of the big day tomorrow.

Dildo Run. Not the worst view in the world even in the grey,
but infinitely improved with sunlight.

The following day we headed off across the Hamilton Sound to Fogo Island, one of the must-see tourist attractions in Newfoundland. I was naturally very excited as I'd heard wonderful things about the island. Also, I was going to an island, which meant that I was going on a ferry. And it was when we were approached the terminal at Farewell that everyone discovered how much I love ferries. I really love ferries. To me they mean going on an adventure somewhere, evoking memories of trips on the Mersey Ferry as a child, or on geological journeys to Scottish islands like Arran and Mull. And this trip was to be no exception.

Fogo Island is a picturesque step back to another time. There's quaint fishing houses nestled in rocky bays that must be harsher than they appear in the light of summer. The houses are as colourful as they are in the rest of Newfoundland but have a different feel to them (especially when you take photos of them in miniature mode with a new camera). Then there is Brimstone Head, a volcanic promontory that is alleged to be one of the four corners of the world by the Flat Earth Society. And you could see why. Despite not having the time to walk the trail it was easy to imagine why this place felt like the edge of the earth.

FERRY TIME!!!

Miniature matchstick houses.

The artsy monstrosity that is the new Fogo Island Inn, where a room
can set you back $1000 if you are so inclined... 

In the town of Fogo itself we come across some locals playing some jigs and reels.

Brimstone Head at the edge of the earth.

On our final day (Canada Day itself) we headed up to Twillingate, the so-called Iceberg Capital of the world. 2013 has been a somewhat poor year for icebergs in comparison to recent years. I don't think many have made it as far east as St John's at least. Unfortunately we didn't see any while we were in Twillingate, but that doesn't mean it was a wasted excursion. Crow Head afforded majestic views, as well as a coffee shop with excellent flavoured lattes. Fuelled on caffeine we started our journey back to St John's, but not without stopping for lunch at the Chelsea's Fish & Chip van, where their infamous 26 foot lobster provides a unique photo oppotunity

Fabulous colours helped by excellent geology.

The flag at Long Point Lighthouse. 

I don't know what more I can say about this. 

Arriving back in St John's I was definitely hit by the post-holiday lull. The excitement of travelling around the island quickly evaporated with the feeling of exhaustion and annoyance at the amount of dishes my housemates had left in the sink. The joys reappeared as quickly though once I had looked back through and edited my photos. It had been a fabulous adventure and I was not going to let my housemates bring me down. I had spent the weekend falling in love with more of this island. My new tent had now survived two trips and dealt with some moderate rain and wind. And I had plans in place for an another, even bigger adventure in the coming weeks. It is this which forms the basis of my next narrative...

How to be a geochronologist - Part 1

I thought I would do a post explaining what I've actually been up to in Canada in terms of work, as I'm aware it appears that I do very little geology. I'm going to start with some of the lab work I've been up to, and what happens to the rocks after I collect them in the field, and what answers I'm trying to get out of them. But don't worry, I won't bore you guys with the in depth account of my research proposal and why I'm doing this particularly project (although my proposal is a good read!). 

Basically a previous study of these rocks had found some pretty interesting geochemical characteristics in the rocks (the ones I collected from California in December) that we weren't expecting, specifically to do with the ages we were getting from the analyses. The parts of the rocks that we typically get ages for rocks from these days are excruciatingly tiny minerals (definitely <1mm) like zircon and monazite. These minerals are surprisingly tough little blighters that form in molten rocks that pop up in the earth's crust, and are then found in rocks like my granites. During their lifetime they are very good at recording the chemistry of the magma around them, as well as picking up signatures of other things that happen to them, like if they get attacked by fluids deep underground or up at the surface. Using fancy equipment we can measure the chemistry of these minerals and figure out what happened to the minerals, and most importantly, when it happened.


As I said, these minerals are tiny. You can't see them in the rock with your eyes. You may be able to see them in the microscope if they're big and you're a hawk. So how do we get them out of the rock and in a state where we can measure them? Well...

You get your rocks, of which there may be a couple kilograms of chunks like this,

Using this array of metal slabs, nuts, washers, ethanol and tools,

Dolled up in a dust mask, safety glasses and ear protectors, you submit your rocks to a number of medieval torture methods...

Splitting (put the rock in between these two teeth and squeeze until it breaks into smaller chunks, if the US Postal Service haven't adequately broken up your samples for you),

Crushing (use big metal plates that move towards and away from each other to crush the rocks into chunks a couple of centimetres big),

Milling (use two rotating disks to grind the rocks down into a sandy powder),

Using the terrifyingly named "Pulverizer",

Quartering (to split your sand sample into 4 representative portions,

And then sieving to get rid of the coarser material and the finer dust (that volunteer job working with aggregates did come in handy afterall!).

After all this dusty manual labour, which involves a lot of heavy duty duct tape and brown paper, you are then ready to do some science! The zircon and monazite grains we're after are all about the same size as the rest of the sand grains. But how do we then separate out the <5% of grains that we need from everything else? Well helpfully zircon and monazite are largely denser than most of the other stuff in the sand. So using the "heavy liquid technique" we mix our sample with a really dense chemical called methylene iodide and thanks its density...

The lighter stuff (quartz, feldspars and micas, that we don't want) floats to the top (where all the grey crap is),

And the heavier stuff (zircon, monazite and garnet if it's there) sinks to the bottom, where we can tap it off and move onto the next step,

All the while rocking the lab coat, safety glasses and latex gloves look, that at least makes you look more like a scientist than a construction worker.

You can then separate out the good stuff even more by using the Frantz magnetic separator. By this point we've already removed the actual magnetic stuff with a big hand magnet, but all the stuff that's left is paramagnetic and dimagnetic which means they can still interact with magnetic fields but in different ways. This big ol' electromagnet takes advantage of that, and by varying the strength of the magnetic field and/or the slope of the chute you can separate out the zircon and monazite, and anything else that's still knocking about.

You set the kit up with a bit of arts and crafts skill. The sample (a couple grams worth of tiny minerals in my case) goes in the funnel to top right,

And passes through the electromagnet and splits down the shoot into two fractions, which we then collect in our weighing paper boxes.

From here the process involves physically picking the grains and putting them on a mount, which we can then put in one of our analytical machines to get our geochemical and geochronological data. Now, may I remind you again that these grains are very small! It takes a bit of practice and a lot of concentration to be able to use the really fine tweezers to pick up the grains and move them. Especially as monazite tends to shatter into a million pieces if you squeeze it too hard. To help keep focused and to prevent being spooked by any sudden noises I tend to blast carefully constructed playlists of classic rock that I can sing along to. This approach has largely succeeded, and my singing is very effective at keeping people out of the lab!

Big fancy microscope,

With a wee dish containing one of the fractions separated out before, mixed with some ethanol to make it easier to pick grains up.

Camera attached to the microscope helps with identification. The golden brown grains are typically monazite, whereas zircon, found in one of the other fractions, is completely clear and typically with pointy pyramid ends.

Once located and picked up with the tweezers grains are moved, whilst trying your utmost not to drop them, to another microscope,

Where they are placed carefully onto super strong sticky back tape on the mount,

And after a picking a few hundred garins begins to look something a little like this. That little red bar is 1mm in size. I told you these things were small!

After the grains are on the mount they are coated in epoxy and polished down to make the final mount. This is the stage i am currently up to; I'm waiting for some new epoxy to arrive and then before you know it we'll be shooting lasers at the grains and getting data out of them! Well that's the plan anyways. I will write about the next stage of the process when it happens and I have some pretty pictures to accompany. Until next time y'all...