Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Heart of the Matter

[I am standing on my favourite spot on the Atlantic Coast"]

Part 5 - Out of the Woods

- June 2010

(The following column was published in The Londoner, June 24, 2010)

From Halifax: Fulfilling an old promise to a navy vet Pt 2

Last week I mentioned a few details about my trip to Halifax, a delightful city in which my dad trained for the Merchant Marine in the early 1940s. Let's see, what did I say?

Briefly - I motorcycled, wore one pair of pants (still am), ate a lot of Irish stew and carried a small boat - named the SS Silver Walnut and transporting my dad's ashes as cargo - along with my luggage. I arrived safely a week ago Saturday and what I had to do next was set the boat adrift upon the Atlantic Ocean.

Sounds easy, right? After all, the whole of Nova Scotia is almost completely surrounded by water. Unfortunately, I wanted to get the boat 'out a ways' in order to reach the Gulf Stream and be carried to Scotland, another place in which dad trained for the Canadian Navy.

So, on Sunday morning I rode toward Pennant Point, a promising spot 25 - 30 km. south-west of Halifax, at least according to the old road maps and blurry Google images I'd looked at (fairly carefully). Well, getting to and navigating that point of land was the hardest task I've undertaken in many years.

["I made a sturdy boat, but it grew very heavy as I hiked the coast"]

First, there were no roads to the Atlantic. A gentleman familiar with the region told me to expect a 6 km. hike.

Second, trails were hard to find. I got lost on occasion. Faint trails led me into the bush or onto a beach that was tough sledding. Or onto rocky outcroppings almost impossible to navigate or already occupied by young couples or fishermen or nudists.

Third, my heavy sweater and jeans, perfect for biking during the cool morning hours, stuck to my body and weighed me down when afternoon temperatures soared to 120 - 130 degrees (just a rough estimate), my motorcycle boots caused my feet to blister and the 35 pound boat weighed double that after an hour.

I grew exhausted and asked myself several times, should I turn back? I eventually decided to turn one last corner and climb up one last rock ledge.

I'm so glad I did. I found the perfect spot - a private, flat, broad shelf of rock a few feet above the ocean's churning waves.

I prepared the boat for departure and a camera for pictures. And I read a paragraph my dad wrote about the admiration he felt for his ship and crew mates, and these last words from his longest story about the Merchant Marine:

"I conclude my story of adventures aboard the Walnut with a poem by my brother-in-law, Arthur Catton. It expresses my feelings about ships.

   I don't care if it's north or south,
   The Trades or the China Sea,

   Shortened down or everything set,
   Closed hauled or running free.
   You paint me a ship
   As is, like a ship,
   And that'll do for me."

["I believe the Silver Walnut will find her way"]

Then, with all the might I had left in me, I tossed the small Walnut and dad's ashes into the ocean. What a great splash it made as it disappeared under the water. What a beautiful sight it was when it popped right back up (I knew it was a good, solid boat!), turned left, then right - as if charting its course - and set off for an adventure of its own.

Will it reach Scotland? Together, let's wait and see.

["One last look before I head back to Halifax"]

Link to my short YouTube video from Pennant Point, June 2010

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Coming up next, the exciting conclusion of 'Halifax and Another Hard Promise', a series of short stories.

Photos by GH