Relaxing in Vinland

Been tied up in Noddy Bay for the past few days waiting for favourable winds for the next 1,300 mile leg to Iceland. According to the latest reports I've received I might be pushing off Wednesday morning (23 July) if the low pressure system passes over this northern part of Newfoundland as predicted.

Can't say I'm complaining though as life is fine here in the old Viking stomping grounds. The Newfoundland culture of xenophilia is well and alive up here. The locals go out of their way to meet you, have a chat, and lend a helping hand if they can. Doesn't matter where you are from, when you come to Newfoundland, it's a bit like 'coming home', so to speak. You're made to feel very welcome.

Tomorrow I'm invited to dinner with Frank and his wife. Frank's the local carpenter who makes 6ft lighthouses as lawn ornaments. Comes complete with working lights. Apparently they're a hot item around here and in demand.

Been driving around the area today with Keith who showed up at my boat this mornng with beer! We stopped of at his house in Quirpon Harbour (pr. Carpoon) A large comfortable house he only stays in during the summer as he has another down in St Anthony. He wants to sell it though, with 125 acres of land. He hopes to get $10,000 (5,000 pounds) Life is cheap up here. You could become a land baron around here for same price to buy a small plot in Wales (and much of the more populated areas of Canada).

Last night I attended the local 'screech out' at the only bar for miles around - Skipper Hots..(Screech is a Newfoundland liquor guaranteed to make you act silly and rot your gut.) I was invited to it by Austin, the main man and lead singer of the Skipper Hots band who lives just across the road from the wharf. Later his wife came over to 'make sure I was coming'.

A Screech Out includes a skit where some unlucky visitors are chosen to participate in a ceremony to become 'official Newfoundlanders' It involves, among other things, chatting up and kissing a cod (that they keep in a freezer). Fun all around. Thankfully I was not badgered into kissing cod. I guess being a sailor I'm Newfie enough already.

The the first 200 miles on my way to Iceland is going to be as a little tense as it is still within the iceberg limit. Remember what happened to the Titanic? It hit an iceberg and went down not far from here. But then again, life without risk is hardly worth living. Right?

until later,

Simon