August 16, 2023
The Day Before the Big Day
Tomorrow is my big day, the day I've planned my whole trip around so far. It's the day the once-a-week ferry leaves for Francois, it will allow me to hook up to other outports and ferries going west. I have a day to kill around Hermitage so I’ll visit a few of the nearby villages.
Seal Cove
Seal Cove is the last settlement before Highway 364 abruptly ends at a rocky shore. This has got to be the kind of place that’s worth going out of your way to see, the waaaay out there, 219 kilometres from the nearest Walmart. It’s only 15 kilometres past Hermitage and the ride is easy. The view stretches to the horizon, there is hardly a tree in sight, it’s all tuckamore and rock and sea. The power poles are set in cradles filled with rocks to hold them up, the ground not solid enough to keep them upright. I pass a cemetery and I just have to drop in; there is always something entertaining there. I am not disappointed, several of the gravestones have the usual names and dates but with an etching, not of the dearly departed, but of their dog! I don’t know, maybe it’s the dog that’s buried there. The town itself kind of sucked. No rugged frontier town this, it more resembles any insipid white-bread suburb of any city in Canada. All the houses are white, vinyl-sided, with lawns any golf course would be proud of. I wonder how they even grow lawns here, in a land with no soil. I don’t even bother to go to the end of town before I turn around to go back. I pass a lady sweeping the main road with a broom; yep, I’m done here.
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Gaultois
Just six kilometres from Hermitage is Gaultois, another of the outports accessible only by boat. I catch the afternoon ferry out of Hermitage for what will be a two hour tour. It’s a tourist run and the other passengers are also sight-seers. There are no exclusive groups or shyness, everyone just jumps into chit chat with everyone else, as if they’ve known each other all their lives. I, the recluse, am also pulled into it and I become a bit giddy with all the chattering I’m doing. The ride over is straight out of a promotional video - laughing people, sun-dappled bay, rugged mountains today friendly, and a whale swimming into the scene to make it perfect.
The village is equally picturesque; point your camera anywhere and you’ve got a picture for a tourist brochure. I learn there are four distinct parts to the town:
- The Room: Near the wharf where, traditionally, salt fish was dried for market. Some of the houses in the area appear a bit run down and some have been deserted altogether.
- The Valley: Up the hill, duh.
- The Point: Across the harbour from the wharf and the most populated part of town. It’s neat and tidy and a bit of a labyrinth. To get there you walk past the old fish plant on a wooden boardwalk at the base of the rock face. Fun!
- The Bottom: Up the hill, past the school, and down the other side. It’s the most isolated part of an isolated town and one can only wonder who lives there.
It’s a fun place to explore but a casual tour like this tells you little of the reality of living there. One of the other visitors tells me she is originally from Gaultois but she moved away because it was a ferry ride and a two-hour drive to the nearest hospital. From a high of 600 people in 1966, the population has plummeted to 70 today. The school is down to four students. There were votes for resettlement in 2015 and again this year but both times it was voted down. No matter, one way or another Gaultois will soon be no more.
Today's ride: 30 km (19 miles)
Total: 460 km (286 miles)
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