10 September 2021
Baker Shore - Confederation Bridge - Shamogue Marsh - Petit Cap - Shediac - Riverside, NB
Darrell made sure that were well fortified for our journey to New Brunswick and gave us a jar of Lynne's homemade plum jam to help us on our way.
We loaded our car in pouring rain and set off for the Confederation Bridge to cross over into New Brunswick. There is a toll charge when you leave Prince Edward Island. I think the logic is that there is no charge to come to this enchanted island, but if you are silly enough to leave you have to pay! I can see the sense in that.
Shamogue Marsh, NB
We had hours to go before check-in at our B&B in Riverside, NB, and spent a little time watching the wildlife at Shamogue Marsh, right on the shoreline of the Northumberland Strait. We were unable to find a suitable viewing point off the highway, so it was a little noisy as the traffic whizzed by constantly.
It was a joy to locate a small number of Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa), three of which got together on a log for us.
Food must have been abundant in the marsh for we counted nineteen Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias) feeding there.
Doubtless there were others in sections of the marsh beyond our view.
Shorebirds were also attracted to rich feeding on the mud and in shallow water as this Lesser Yellowlegs (Tringa flavipes) attests.
Petit Cap, NB
We hugged the coast as much as we could, enjoying the various small fishing settlements so emblematic of this part of New Brunswick.
From our perspective, the area around Petit Cap, was especially attractive.
We had seen Western Ospreys (Pandion haliaetus) on PEI and we spotted one again here in New Brunswick.
Coastal waters appear to permit them to stay longer than back home in Ontario, before migrating south.
We need no reminder of human folly, but it is confounding nonetheless, to read that we have polluted a rich resource to the point where the contamination of the ocean's bounty is so complete as to render it unfit for human consumption.
We are at one and the same time the most intelligent and the most moronic species ever to inhabit the Earth.
The beaches are lovely, but what toxins do they conceal beneath the sand?
I am not sure of the exact identity of this flower but it looks like a type of aster (Asteracea) and it makes a cheerful statement to all who see it.
Shells are present in abundance for the avid collector, and who can resist taking a few? Not I!
Great Black-backed Gull (Larus marinus) is infrequently seen on the Great Lakes so one of the attractions of a visit to the Atlantic regions of Canada is to observe this species prolifically, seen here with American Herring Gulls (Larus smithsonianus).
Great Black-backed Gull is the largest gull in the world and is a fearsome predator.
Little that it can capture and swallow escapes its attention. One wonders how much poison it is ingesting from the contaminated organisms of the bay.
The breakwater hosted a concentration of birds that is a birder's dream come true.
Here are Herring Gulls and Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarensis) together.
Double-crested Cormorants (Nannopterum auritum) are happy to join the crowd.
Shediac, NB
Shediac is the largest town in the area. At the time of our visit a federal election was underway. Dominique LeBlanc, a Liberal, dominates this district like a private fiefdom, as did his father Roméo LeBlanc before him. We saw his campaign signs everywhere and passed his campaign headquarters. He won the riding with ease, garnering a substantial majority of the votes cast. The LeBlanc dynasty continues.
But for the average visitor to Shediac, it is not Monsieur LeBlanc that is uppermost on their minds. Who can compete with "The World's Largest Lobster"?
We made our pilgrimage as we should. We paid homage as befits the king of the region.
It was only right after all.
Shediac - Riverside, NB
We skirted around Moncton on a road that seemed to take us half way through Moncton, and then meandered peacefully towards the Bay of Fundy.
New Brunswick is quite renowned for its covered bridges (the one at Hartland being allegedly the longest in the world) and we saw one on a secondary road at the side of the highway. Naturally we had to stop.
The grammar on the sign puzzled me a little. The word Sawmill is followed by a period. Then Creekbridge is one word, again followed by a period. Finally, the date, 1905, and that's the end of the periods. One might have thought it should be Sawmill Creek Bridge. But what do I know of local customs?
In any event we walked through, admiring the graffiti liberally applied within. One wonders whether all those star-crossed lovers are still joined together in joyful enjoyment of each other. One can only hope their artistic skills improved along the way.
Here is the creek spanned by the bridge. Quite wide for a creek it seems to me.
The road approaching the bridge was very interesting I thought.
I have never seen a road lined with birches in this fashion, but I found it very attractive. A veritable Grande Allée.
The lichen on the bark held considerable appeal for me.
With still lots of time before we could announce our presence to the B&B, we drove past it and came upon a marshy area, with the hulk of an old boat perched on dry land adjacent to the bay.
We spotted a female Belted Kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon) almost right away, as though she had come to greet us.
Just off the prow of the boat we had one of the great birding delights of the trip. A congregation of Greater Yellowlegs (Tringa melanoleuca) and Short-billed Dowitchers (Limnodromus griseus) graced the water, and showed no inclination to leave. The following series of images needs no further commentary from me.
You can see why Miriam is in charge of the camera!
There was a lighthouse there, presumably now a tourist attraction, but sadly vandalized, with the door off its hinges and windows broken.
A Grey Cross Spider (Larinioides sclopetarius) found the area exactly to its liking.
Curiously this species prefers steel objects above all else and is seldom seen on vegetation.
We drove slowly up and down a track across a salt marsh, and were thrilled to find a small group of Nelson's Sparrows (Ammospiza nelsoni). I have only seen this species a few times in my life. They were a little way off and moving constantly but Miriam did manage this picture.
Several Northern Harriers (Circus hudsonius) coursed over the marsh giving us a fabulous display of their hunting technique.
Savannah Sparrows (Passerculus sandwichensis) in these coastal regions have a bit of a different look to them and it took us a couple of minutes to realize what we were seeing.
Well satisfied with our little excursion, we headed to Fundy's Lost Lobster and Fundy's Lighthouse Cottage BnB.
Normally, as I am sure you all well know, when one arrives at a B&B one is greeted by the host. They show you the room, explain the features to you, have a little chat, engage in pleasantries.
Here we were told, "You're upstairs", and that was the end of any interaction we ever had with the owner. We never saw her again during the two days we stayed there.
The room was quite large, basically clean but dingy looking, and spartan.
There was but one chair for two people and since the bed was a kind of faux four poster of indeterminate design, there was no headboard against which to prop the pillows, so nowhere for the second person to sit.
The bathroom had one container of soap on the counter next to the washbasin, and no soap, shampoo or conditioner in the shower at all.
How we longed for Baker Shore and Lynne and Darrell!
We drove about twenty minutes into Alma for dinner. Miriam had lobster poutine and I chose a lobster roll with cole slaw and French fries. All was quite acceptable, not terrific, but not bad. As always my plate was loaded with enough French fries to provision a barrack for a month!
Back at the B&B we let ourselves in, climbed the stairs, quite sure that no one else was in the house. The owners did not live there as far as we could tell.
Accommodation: Fundy's Lost Lobster & Fundy's Lighthouse Cottage BnB, 141 Mary's Point Road, Riverside, NB. I will resist giving you their contact information - you will not wish to stay there. Rating: 2 stars out of 5.
11 September 2021
A full day at Hopewell Rocks
We went down for breakfast to an eerie silence; no movement in the kitchen, nor elsewhere, a house empty of people save us.
Breakfast was to be a serve-yourself affair from whatever had been left on the counter or in the fridge. There were even eggs and sausages if you were willing to find the skillet and cook them yourselves (and be sure to clean up afterwards!). Abandon any thought that the pleasure of being on vacation means not having to do such things.
The selection was quite dismal, with sugary cereals, and a couple of gigantic muffins to make your dentist recoil. We made our own coffee and had a small container of yoghurt and one of those little Babybel cheeses.
Having dutifully placed our cups and plates in the dishwasher, we went back to our room to get ready for a day witnessing the spectacular tides of the Bay of Fundy.
We had time to spare before we could gain admission to Hopewell Rocks so did a little exploration and discovered Lars Larsen Marsh.
We did not locate any birds, but it would be a place to revisit if ever we make this trip again.
This bush is a bit of a puzzle to me.
Based on what I can discover from reference books and a couple of sites online, it is Scarlet Sesbane (Sesbania punicea). This is a plant with a high demand for water and it was in a suitable area. I had no idea that it was found so far north, but I can't think what else it might be. I am quite willing to be corrected!
It was time to go to Hopewell Rocks.
We paid our admission - $12.00 each, good for two days, and entered in high spirits.
The key to visiting to view the tidal bore, the highest in the world, is to know the times of low and high tides in order to see the contrast between the two.
We made a bathroom stop before proceeding on our way, and were very appreciative of the instructions provided.
We would never have known!
After a very engaging chat with a member of the park staff, there to help visitors in any way possible, we began to see what we had come for.
The expanse of ocean bottom before us and the exquisite formations would be under water later in the day.
We were too late to view the spectacle of the Semipalmated Sandpipers (Calidris pusilla) but that detracted not one iota from our enthusiasm.
We were anxious to descend to the ocean floor and begin to explore.
There is not even a hint of hyperbole when I say that we were enchanted with the whole experience. Miriam, beaming with enthusiasm, made the very apt comment that of all the great natural wonders of the world that we have seen, the Bay of Fundy ranks at the highest level.
I am constantly dismayed at the impoverished usage of language, where for some, everything is either "cool" or "neat", as though no other adjectives exist. It verged on sickening to hear someone exclaim, "This is so cool." English is arguably the most descriptive language of all, and faced with an incredible array of evocative terms, the best one can up with is "cool"? How sad; how utterly sad.
We were curious about everything. Knotted Wrack (Ascophyllum nodosum) is a seaweed that grows only in the North Atlantic.
The flowerpot rocks became ever more appealing.
Pure Rock Doves (Columba livia) are found in very few places in the world today, having adopted urban areas as their principal home, but perhaps ancestral genes kicked in for these individuals who seemed to favour rocks above all else.
I could easily stretch my imagination to visualize a similar scene along the Barbary Coast!
We were starting to think about lunch and decided to head back along the beach, marveling all the while at the incredible formations.
On the way back to the parking lot, we were side-tracked down a trail called Big Cove. Here we found a sign indicating that a pair of Peregrine Falcons (Falco peregrinus) was nesting on the cliffs.
By peering through the vegetation we were able to glimpse one of the pair.
There were many Dark-eyed Juncos (Junco hyemalis), with juveniles among them.
Myrtle Warblers (Setophaga coronata) were actively foraging for insects.
Ground Yellowjackets (Vespula sp.) made it clear that they should be left alone.
We left the park to go to a restaurant we had passed earlier. It was part of a complex devoted to horses and there was some kind of show taking place behind it.
The decor was 20th Century Stable and many of the patrons looked as though they had been transplanted from rural Alberta. A couple of gals (I am sure they call themselves "gals") came in dressed in their stetsons, with cowgirl boots, one even sporting spurs. I expect they said things like "heehaw" and "hornswoggle".
The restaurant served an excellent Cesar salad I am happy to report.
Returning to Hopewell Rocks we had time for a coffee before making our way to the viewing points to see the tide roar in.
I don't remember whether we had High Tide Blend or Low Tide Blend, but I can tell you that it was good.
The tide was coming in!
Areas where we had walked mere hours earlier were already underwater.
Surprisingly, this American Red Squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) seemed aloof from the impressive spectacle unfolding before its eyes.
Inexorably, the waters rolled in.
We were at the top of three flights of steps down to the beach at low tide; now the water was lapping behind us.
Signs indicating danger zones, where foolhardy "adventurers" might get trapped against the rocks were almost underwater.
Soon they disappeared completely and the water continued to surge.
The waves crashed in with incredible force.
At the crest of the tide the water level is some 13.5 metres (45 feet) above the ocean floor, where we had strolled along in awesome contemplation of this force of nature.
We did not leave until we knew that the tide was at its peak.
It is an experience that will not soon be forgotten.
The larva of a Spotted Tussock Moth (Lophocampa maculata) was there to bid us farewell as we exited the park.
Dinner was taken at a roadside restaurant whose name I forget, but it has a red roof. The interior, the staff and the food were all of an order best forgotten!
