Thursday
Prince Edward Island is 120 miles long and 459 feet high. Motorists can reach it either by ferry from Nova Scotia or by crossing the Confederation Bridge over Northumberland Strait. We drove across the bridge past a sign advising that the toll was $40.75 for two-axle passenger vehicles.
We pulled off at the end of the bridge to tour Souvenir Village and somehow missed the toll booth when we returned to the highway. I couldn’t find a way to turn the car around and we proceeded onto the island with heavy hearts and feelings of guilt.
Gail pointed out that all the vehicles we saw on the road had colored decals in the corner of their windshields and she convinced me that they were toll booth stickers displayed so the police will know who has unlawfully evaded payment. I decided that we should pull in to a police station to confess what we had done and pay the toll and penalty charges. But first we needed to have lunch.
We parked at Heritage Pub in Summerside and I checked the windshields of parked cars. The decals corroborated compliance with annual provincial vehicle inspection requirements.
After fish and chips and a beer, I no longer wanted to contact the police.
We went by The Bottle House Monument and stopped to use the washrooms. The lady behind the counter told us the history of the two bottle houses.
Back in 1994 she showed her dad a post card from a bottle house attraction that she visited. He said, I can do that, and spent the last four years of his life constructing two buildings out of bottles and concrete.
After he died, the family discovered that the railroad tie foundations that he used were expanding and contracting with the weather and causing the houses to crack. So the family de-constructed the buildings, rebuilt the foundations and put the bottles back together in the shape of buildings. They planted trees around them so they are no longer visible from the roadway, built a gift shop and went into business. Our hostess’ eldest son spent his summer vacation after college constructing a twelve-foot bottle out front out of bottles to catch the eye of passing tourists. It’s a little crooked and not quite symmetrical, but bottle-building probably wasn’t his major.
We actually did not buy tickets to pass through the trees and view the bottle buildings but I did buy a post card. I can show it to you if you want.
We drove from there to West Point Lighthouse and paid $2 to climb to the top. West Point is the tallest of the 82 lighthouses on the island, 72 steps, and the only one that provides overnight lodging inside the tower, two suites on the first level.
When we checked in to our hotel that night in Charlottetown, I overheard the desk clerk tell another guest that the bridge toll is assessed only one way, on cars as they leave the island.
Friday
We took a circular route around the north coast of the island on our way to Green Gables. Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Avonlea is actually Cavendish, the town where she lived when she wrote Anne of Green Gables. The house is a National Historic site restored to the period depicted in the novels.
We toured Green Gables, then the nearby site where Ms Montgomery lived with her grandparents. Eventually, we sorted the story out.
Lucy Maud Montgomery was brought to Cavendish by her father when she was an infant shortly after her mother died. Her father then went to live in Saskatchewan and remarried and Ms Montgomery was raised by his parents in Cavendish.
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The house in the novels, Green Gables, was the home of cousins with whom Ms Montgomery did not get along but whom she visited on occasion. She made that house the home of Anne Shirley and her adopted family, Murilla and Matthew Cuthbert.
Ms Montgomery’s life paralleled Anne’s. She became a teacher at the local schoolhouse at age 16, cared for her grandmother until her death, then married the local preacher, raised a family and was eventually buried in the Cavendish cemetery with her mother and husband. Her descendants still live on the property in a modest home behind the gift shop.
We next stopped at the Cheese Lady, maker of fine Gouda, and bought some wheels of flavored cheese.
For our evening meal we drove to New Glasgow and bought tickets for a Lobster Supper, an island tradition that began as a church fund-raiser. We were served first chowder and steamed mussels, as much as we wanted, salads, then a lobster apiece and then our choice of pies and ice creams.
Meal prices were based on the size lobster we requested and the shellfish were put into the water to cook as soon as we sat down. Lisa, our server, told us that a 1-pound lobster takes 25 minutes to boil and a 4-pound Jumbo takes 55 minutes, which gives the diner more time to eat mussels and chowder while waiting.
Over on the wall they displayed Larry, preserved inside a shadow box, aged 23 years and weighing 19 pounds.
Saturday
On our way to the eastern shore of the island, following the Lighthouse Route, Gail found a roadside stand and bought a small pumpkin for our dashboard.
We stopped at Cooper’s Red and White Food Store for coffee. Gail did not find what she wanted and we were on our way out when Mrs Cooper asked if she could help. It turned out that she had a secret stash of cappuccino behind the counter and she fixed Gail up. She asked how we were liking PEI and she asked if we had tried the oysters. When I said we’d eaten a half dozen Malpeques, she invited us to the back where she shucked and handed me three fresh oysters from Belfast Bay. They were not fat, bland Pacific oysters. They exploded in the mouth with the wild flavor of the sea, a tang and a salty bite that almost made me weep with pleasure.
Point Prim Lighthouse was closed, locked and unattended. So was Wood Islands and so was the.JPG)
Cape Bear Lighthouse and Marconi Station. A sign told us that the radio operator at Cape Bear was the first person to hear distress signals from the Titanic as she foundered off the coast of Newfoundland in 1912.
At Panure Head, two young girls sold tickets and allowed us to climb 47 steps to the top of the lighthouse.
Last stop of the day was East Point.
At the eastern tip of PEI, three currents collide–Northumberland Strait, the St Lawrence River and the Atlantic Gulf Stream.
In 1882 HMS Phoenix was wrecked here and blame was attributed to the lighthouse location, a half mile inland.
That reminded me of a story about the battleship commander who was making his way through a thick fog. A light appeared dead ahead. He had his radioman send a message requesting that the other ship change course to avoid collision.
The response was negative.
The captain repeated, "I am a battleship, change course."
The replay came, "I cannot change course."
The captain repeated, "I am an admiral. Change course."
The reply came, "I am a lighthouse. Your call."
Gail asked at the gift shop why we were seeing so many for sale signs and houses that appeared to be empty.
The answer was that, for many, the older generation leaves their home and their children do not want to live on the farm. For others, it is the work.
Only fishers, farmers and medical workers can make an annual wage. Most other jobs are seasonal. Island services close in October and re-open in the spring.
Farming is a way of life that many young people are not willing to take up.
Fishing declines here as well as in the U.S. Japanese buyers pay fishermen $20 a pound for tuna but the season is short and the quota low.
Lobster fishers must make their annual income in May and
June. This year the lobster season off the east end was bad and the lobster men licensed to fish there did not make their wages. Many of them have had to go to Alberta to work in the oil fields, but the word from there is that you should not go there unless you already have guaranteed housing or tent space in one of the oil camps. There is no housing available. And only skilled workers can afford to move there. Service employees will not make enough money to pay the high rent.
Prince Edward Island is 120 miles long and 459 feet high. Motorists can reach it either by ferry from Nova Scotia or by crossing the Confederation Bridge over Northumberland Strait. We drove across the bridge past a sign advising that the toll was $40.75 for two-axle passenger vehicles.
We pulled off at the end of the bridge to tour Souvenir Village and somehow missed the toll booth when we returned to the highway. I couldn’t find a way to turn the car around and we proceeded onto the island with heavy hearts and feelings of guilt.
Gail pointed out that all the vehicles we saw on the road had colored decals in the corner of their windshields and she convinced me that they were toll booth stickers displayed so the police will know who has unlawfully evaded payment. I decided that we should pull in to a police station to confess what we had done and pay the toll and penalty charges. But first we needed to have lunch.
We parked at Heritage Pub in Summerside and I checked the windshields of parked cars. The decals corroborated compliance with annual provincial vehicle inspection requirements.
After fish and chips and a beer, I no longer wanted to contact the police.
We went by The Bottle House Monument and stopped to use the washrooms. The lady behind the counter told us the history of the two bottle houses.
Back in 1994 she showed her dad a post card from a bottle house attraction that she visited. He said, I can do that, and spent the last four years of his life constructing two buildings out of bottles and concrete.
After he died, the family discovered that the railroad tie foundations that he used were expanding and contracting with the weather and causing the houses to crack. So the family de-constructed the buildings, rebuilt the foundations and put the bottles back together in the shape of buildings. They planted trees around them so they are no longer visible from the roadway, built a gift shop and went into business. Our hostess’ eldest son spent his summer vacation after college constructing a twelve-foot bottle out front out of bottles to catch the eye of passing tourists. It’s a little crooked and not quite symmetrical, but bottle-building probably wasn’t his major.
We actually did not buy tickets to pass through the trees and view the bottle buildings but I did buy a post card. I can show it to you if you want.
We drove from there to West Point Lighthouse and paid $2 to climb to the top. West Point is the tallest of the 82 lighthouses on the island, 72 steps, and the only one that provides overnight lodging inside the tower, two suites on the first level.
When we checked in to our hotel that night in Charlottetown, I overheard the desk clerk tell another guest that the bridge toll is assessed only one way, on cars as they leave the island.
Friday
We took a circular route around the north coast of the island on our way to Green Gables. Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Avonlea is actually Cavendish, the town where she lived when she wrote Anne of Green Gables. The house is a National Historic site restored to the period depicted in the novels.
We toured Green Gables, then the nearby site where Ms Montgomery lived with her grandparents. Eventually, we sorted the story out.
Lucy Maud Montgomery was brought to Cavendish by her father when she was an infant shortly after her mother died. Her father then went to live in Saskatchewan and remarried and Ms Montgomery was raised by his parents in Cavendish.
.JPG)
The house in the novels, Green Gables, was the home of cousins with whom Ms Montgomery did not get along but whom she visited on occasion. She made that house the home of Anne Shirley and her adopted family, Murilla and Matthew Cuthbert.Ms Montgomery’s life paralleled Anne’s. She became a teacher at the local schoolhouse at age 16, cared for her grandmother until her death, then married the local preacher, raised a family and was eventually buried in the Cavendish cemetery with her mother and husband. Her descendants still live on the property in a modest home behind the gift shop.
We next stopped at the Cheese Lady, maker of fine Gouda, and bought some wheels of flavored cheese.
For our evening meal we drove to New Glasgow and bought tickets for a Lobster Supper, an island tradition that began as a church fund-raiser. We were served first chowder and steamed mussels, as much as we wanted, salads, then a lobster apiece and then our choice of pies and ice creams.
Meal prices were based on the size lobster we requested and the shellfish were put into the water to cook as soon as we sat down. Lisa, our server, told us that a 1-pound lobster takes 25 minutes to boil and a 4-pound Jumbo takes 55 minutes, which gives the diner more time to eat mussels and chowder while waiting.
Over on the wall they displayed Larry, preserved inside a shadow box, aged 23 years and weighing 19 pounds.
Saturday
On our way to the eastern shore of the island, following the Lighthouse Route, Gail found a roadside stand and bought a small pumpkin for our dashboard.
We stopped at Cooper’s Red and White Food Store for coffee. Gail did not find what she wanted and we were on our way out when Mrs Cooper asked if she could help. It turned out that she had a secret stash of cappuccino behind the counter and she fixed Gail up. She asked how we were liking PEI and she asked if we had tried the oysters. When I said we’d eaten a half dozen Malpeques, she invited us to the back where she shucked and handed me three fresh oysters from Belfast Bay. They were not fat, bland Pacific oysters. They exploded in the mouth with the wild flavor of the sea, a tang and a salty bite that almost made me weep with pleasure.
Point Prim Lighthouse was closed, locked and unattended. So was Wood Islands and so was the
.JPG)
Cape Bear Lighthouse and Marconi Station. A sign told us that the radio operator at Cape Bear was the first person to hear distress signals from the Titanic as she foundered off the coast of Newfoundland in 1912.At Panure Head, two young girls sold tickets and allowed us to climb 47 steps to the top of the lighthouse.
Last stop of the day was East Point.
At the eastern tip of PEI, three currents collide–Northumberland Strait, the St Lawrence River and the Atlantic Gulf Stream.
In 1882 HMS Phoenix was wrecked here and blame was attributed to the lighthouse location, a half mile inland.
That reminded me of a story about the battleship commander who was making his way through a thick fog. A light appeared dead ahead. He had his radioman send a message requesting that the other ship change course to avoid collision.
The response was negative.
The captain repeated, "I am a battleship, change course."
The replay came, "I cannot change course."
The captain repeated, "I am an admiral. Change course."
The reply came, "I am a lighthouse. Your call."
Gail asked at the gift shop why we were seeing so many for sale signs and houses that appeared to be empty.
The answer was that, for many, the older generation leaves their home and their children do not want to live on the farm. For others, it is the work.
Only fishers, farmers and medical workers can make an annual wage. Most other jobs are seasonal. Island services close in October and re-open in the spring.
Farming is a way of life that many young people are not willing to take up.
Fishing declines here as well as in the U.S. Japanese buyers pay fishermen $20 a pound for tuna but the season is short and the quota low.
Lobster fishers must make their annual income in May and
June. This year the lobster season off the east end was bad and the lobster men licensed to fish there did not make their wages. Many of them have had to go to Alberta to work in the oil fields, but the word from there is that you should not go there unless you already have guaranteed housing or tent space in one of the oil camps. There is no housing available. And only skilled workers can afford to move there. Service employees will not make enough money to pay the high rent.
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