An "oops" at Halifax International Airport...and a taste of Nova Scotia.

The iconic lighthouse at Peggy's Cove

Returning to Vancouver Island from Halifax, we weren't about to take any chances - it was a very early flight and we'd been told that the hotel shuttle bus to the terminal could be full. The advice: get down to the lobby early. So us being us (got to have a "double backup" plan) we got there extra early - two shuttle buses early in fact. Still not fully awake at 0445 hours, we joined a group of about a dozen men waiting in the lobby. Dressed for work in the oil patch, we naturally presumed they were heading back to Alberta's Fort McMurray and that we would share the same flight as we were flying via Calgary to Victoria.

The shuttle bus, with all the familiar hotel markings, pulled in about ten minutes early. We boarded and took our seats with the rest of the guys. I noted that our fellow passengers were very quiet. There was none of the usual banter. All seemed pensive, alone with their own thoughts. About five minutes into the ride, it became clear that we weren't driving the same route to the terminal that we had driven the night before to return the rental car. Hmm, must be mistaken. Several minutes later, we turned into the terminal. But...it was the wrong terminal. The aircraft that awaited was not a WestJet Boeing 737, it was a Cougar Sikorsky S-92 helicopter - bound for an off-shore helipad. We had unknowingly joined a crew of oil workers, heading out for a two-week shift aboard a vessel or a drilling rig...over 100 nautical miles out into the Atlantic Ocean. Oops.

Despite our clear lack of situation awareness and "brain engagement", all would be well. :) The main terminal at Halifax Stanfield International Airport was just another two minutes away. The driver, clearly much more awake than us, had already identified that as our probable destination. He cheerfully, and with a broad smile (it's the Maritime way) delivered us to the door - with nary a comment. I guess we weren't the first "civvies" to board the early bus to the airport!

Those aboard the shuttle that morning work in a difficult, unforgiving, sometimes incredibly hostile environment. They are far out at sea, and apart from their families for extended periods of time. I can well imagine who they were thinking about during that quiet ride to the waiting helicopter.

Somewhere, out at sea, a tiny helipad...

It was a good reminder of the many whose work takes them far from home and out to sea, for extended periods of time, and of the families who anxiously await their return. The experience on the shuttle bus provided an important perspective.

Here's some pics of Nova Scotia, one of our Canadian maritime provinces. Hope you enjoy them.

Very low tide, Bay of Fundy 

Don't you think his vessel would make a GREAT pirate ship!

"Theodore Tugboat", in Halifax Harbour,
maybe not quite so "pirate". :)

Marine shuttle between Halifax and Dartmouth

Canadian frigate HMCS Halifax (FFH 330),
returning to port.

They bake some amazing oatcakes here!

Maritime Museum, a "re-configured" church at LaHave.

Lunenburg Academy.

Lunenburg under blue skies..
(The schooner, Bluenose II was in dry dock.

The tiny community of Peggy's Cove.

A taste of France, and the Acadian culture.

Ouch!

Fair warning.

Lobster traps flung high onto the rocks
by a North Atlantic storm.

"Farewell to Nova Scotia...

...the sea bound coast."
A favourite Canadian folk song!

Back home on Vancouver Island, we returned with a renewed appreciation for the beauty and diversity of this most extraordinary country, and especially, Atlantic Canada.

Now, it's time to launch the kayaks, in these equally marvellous Pacific waters.

As always, thanks for spending a few moments here.

Duncan.


"Farewell to Nova Scotia" - and Gordon Lightfoot's version. You can have a listen here - it's a wonderful Celtic Canadian sound!

Friendships...and a week of contrasting emotions in Nova Scotia.

Gentleness.

This past week has been one of contrasting emotions. The events in Boston have created so much heartbreak, so much fear and distress. Amidst the collective jubilation and joy of the marathon finish line,  an act of planned and unthinkable violence changed and ended lives, and curtailed the dreams of so many. We wonder, once again, how it is that human beings can conceive and carry out such terrible actions against others. We offer our heartfelt thoughts and prayers. Most important, however, is that we stand firm in believing that one day, we will all help to create a future that is fair and just for all, a world free of violence and hatred forever.

We must never give up. It'll take something called...tenacity.

A fine ship...and a very good word.

And it will take...strength.

Nothing that is worthwhile is impossible.

For these same past seven days, we have been in Nova Scotia visiting friends. Six thousand road kilometres from home (4500 air kms, as WestJet flies), we have been reminded that friendships can transcend time and distance. We have only lived in the same community with Ray and Carol for four years over the past twenty-eight years, and yet the friendship is as warm and as vibrant as it ever was.

We met in 1985, at Canadian Forces Base Cold Lake, Alberta, where both Ray and I were both posted. In those three short years, our families enjoyed many shared activities. We sat down to countless meals together, made music on our guitars, laughed, and shared our plans and our dreams. We stood cheering in the stands as Eddy the "Eagle" flew off the ski jump at the 1988 Calgary Olympic Games. We hiked the West Coast Trail through endless rain, watched our children chase each other along the vast sands of Vancouver Island's Long Beach, dug for clams on a remote beach, and watched the stars sparkle above us in the deep and dark night sky.

We shared an overlapping year together while serving on NATO postings in Germany in both Lahr and Baden. During that time, we skied in Austria, camped in Switzerland, tasted countless samples of (very fine) wine in France. With our families, we explored castles and fortresses, and experienced the magic of an ancient world, still so very much in evidence. On an extraordinarily historic weekend in June of 1990, we watched the Berlin Wall come down - literally.

Here, in Nova Scotia this past week, we have shared many of those memories and the events that have been part of our individual "stories" since that time, reflections on the present, and dreams of the future.

Friendships can, indeed, transcend time and distance, and for that, we are grateful.

To the Colonel and Carol, thank you for the reminder...and for all your warm and gracious hospitality this week, and in the days yet to come, on Nova Scotia's lovely South Shore.

And to all those who faithfully stop by to share these pages and reflections, thank you so much.

Duncan and Joan.