A Shorter, Almost-Fully-Positive Version
In June, 2010 I wrote two columns for The Londoner, 'London's Community Newspaper', concerning my trip to Halifax to fulfill my father's wishes to be buried at sea. One was written the day before the event, the other one week later, after I'd had the opportunity to put things in perspective and reflect on the positive aspects of the trek to the shore of the Atlantic. And, as well, after I'd had a good think related to how I should best inform my readers about the most important aspects of the trip.
When you put my newspaper account (published in The Londoner, June 24, 2010) up against what appears in this website's previous post (I Give the Boat a Toss, May 6, 2015) you might think I am two different people. The 2015 version reveals I almost gave up on my task and the 2010 news version almost sounds like a walk in the park.
Though the later story is 'the whole truth and nothing but the truth', the watered-down news column has some value too. It reveals I wanted to share with my audience a few positive details of the long journey while I was still far from home, e.g., that I'd accomplished what I'd set out to do. It reveals I was, at the time, limited in some ways by a certain-sized word count per column (approx. 600). Because I wrote the column after a very full, pleasant and enlightening day in Ottawa, one of my favourite cities in Canada, it perhaps reveals my positive mood. And upon reflection, I think it reveals even more.
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 RCNVR and Combined Ops 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 S.S. 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.
The ‘blurry Google images’ did not help much with navigation
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.
Helpful paths were scarce but I eventually found ‘the perfect spot’
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 his days in the Navy:
"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."
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.
And upon reflection, I think it reveals even more?
More to follow.
Please link to my short YouTube video from Pennant Point, June 2010
Please link to I Give the Boat a Toss (17)
Special Note - The S.S. Silver Walnut was found by a man walking his dog on the western shore of Pennant Point the day after I tossed it into the Atlantic Ocean. He contacted me by phone and assured me he would give the boat to his cousin who fishes off George’s Bank near the edge of the Gulf Stream. I am certain the Walnut will enjoy many more adventures.
Photos and Video by GH
