I arose at 6:30 to give myself enough time to condition and knead the sourdough before our 8 am departure for the most exciting event of every Kent Island summer: the whale watch day.
There are quite a few things that make this day so special: it always sneaks up on you, so to speak, in part because time is a strange thing on Kent Island and doesn’t move at the same pace as it does in other places but also because we never nail down a date for it ahead of time because whale watch day has to take place on the best weather day possible; the best weather day is always unfathomably pleasant compared to the more plentiful bad-weather days we have in Kent Island summers; it’s a day off from working on our projects; we get to be out on the water together as a big group; we eat junk food for the only time all summer except Canada Day; we might see some sea life.
Last year the whale watch was an amazing time and we saw a grand total of zero whales.
This year, then, was beyond amazing: we had an hourlong interaction with a humpback whale (named Patchwork by the scientists who decide on these things, we later found out) which stayed within a few feet of our boat for that entire time.
I for one had never seen anything like this.
Even the sounds the whale made were amazing, exhaling and then inhaling through its blowhole.
We saw several other whales “farther” away, which were still much closer to our relatively small and quiet boat than I had ever been to anything nearly so large or so majestic.
Patchwork was a few feet longer than our boat and twice the weight.
When we were done being in absolute awe of this amazing creature, we drifted over to Gannet Rock and Russel prepared lunch.
He cooks burgers, sausages, and even bacon on a charcoal grill- right on the fiberglass deck of the boat.
Transport Canada, he explains, has decided this is safer than a propane barbecue setup.
We feasted on meat (veggie dogs were available, but even the so-called vegetarians ate barbecued bacon- it’s like nothing in this world), potato chips, fudgie-Os (a uniquely Canadian phenomenon, about a million times better than Oreos, and they were double-stuffed to boot), and soda.
When we all felt sufficiently close to bursting or having a heart attack we scoped out the island through binoculars and camera lenses.
To our delight there was a Canadian Coast Guard helicopter on the island. It appeared that its passengers were planning to build something on Gannet Rock as they had survey equipment with them, and they waved to us. 5 of the 6 men seemed to be on their lunch break as they were sitting on folding chairs (“they’re eating some pasta!” Colin announced to the rest of us) and the other continued working.
We then returned to Kent Island, and we were back a little after 2 pm, leaving plenty of time for Elisabeth and me to make dinner.
I discovered that when walking across the basin one is better off barefoot than wearing boots- the water is warm, the mud is squishy, and one can’t fill their boots or get them stuck in the mud when carrying them.
Because we weren’t sure when we’d be back, however, we had set aside and frozen a vegetarian lasagna and a batch of snickerdoodles ahead of time.
As I heated the oven for bread baking and started chopping onions for a pot of real chowder, Elisabeth, who had also burned her hand (on the boat exhaust when we had been sitting on the uppermost deck) so we had blisters to match, hunted for dessert recipes in Marjorie Standish’s classic Cooking Down East.
She made an amazing batch of Cranberry Blondies, which we remember as being a favorite of one of the captains of our Ultimate Frisbee team, and some scratch-baked brownies, using unsweetened baking chocolate, to boot.
It seemed that three desserts would certainly be sufficient.
The chowder came out great: it’s one of the best foods that is even close to as easy to make as it is, and we had four pounds of fresh Pollock Damon had bought at the “extremely well-hidden” fish shop on Grand Manan to go with the canned clams I found upstairs.
Almost equally exciting, the clam cans were exactly the right size for making Boston Brown Bread.
We don’t have any rye flour, though….perhaps I can figure something out with whole-wheat and caraway seeds.
While everything was simmering away and once all the dishes had been cleaned and put away, Elisabeth and I went for a trail run toward the North End of the island.
She described the experience as being like “following a forest nymph because you don’t wear shoes.”
I think I’ll take to carrying fairy dust with me when we go from now on.
We were glad to have the lasagna, as many people were not interested in eating seafood.
The entire pan disappeared quickly, along with both loaves of bread.
After we’d all eaten as much as we could stand to given our experiences earlier in the day, we began the routine of evening recreation.
Emily and I went out to add the insulation (part mud, part alfalfa bale) layer to the oven, assisted by Kathryn and overseen by Elisabeth.
The work went quickly so we migrated back indoors.
Everyone was a bit lethargic, and plans to sleep on South Hill were blown away by the cold wind that came through suddenly around sunset.
I picked up my knitting while others read or worked on crossword puzzles, until Kathryn convinced us all to play a round of Tank, in part to demonstrate the game to the Upward Bound students.
While we were hesitant and tired, we were glad we’d started playing once we’d begun, and we continued for three rounds.
A movie night was considered but no one seemed to have a laptop available for such activities.
Kathryn started a batch of granola, her first, which came out perfectly.
The group settled into the library for a game of Beyond Balderdash, which had us all engaged and amused.
The night’s activities wore on until nearly midnight, when we all abruptly rediscovered how tired we were and meandered to our beds.
There are quite a few things that make this day so special: it always sneaks up on you, so to speak, in part because time is a strange thing on Kent Island and doesn’t move at the same pace as it does in other places but also because we never nail down a date for it ahead of time because whale watch day has to take place on the best weather day possible; the best weather day is always unfathomably pleasant compared to the more plentiful bad-weather days we have in Kent Island summers; it’s a day off from working on our projects; we get to be out on the water together as a big group; we eat junk food for the only time all summer except Canada Day; we might see some sea life.
Last year the whale watch was an amazing time and we saw a grand total of zero whales.
This year, then, was beyond amazing: we had an hourlong interaction with a humpback whale (named Patchwork by the scientists who decide on these things, we later found out) which stayed within a few feet of our boat for that entire time.
I for one had never seen anything like this.
Even the sounds the whale made were amazing, exhaling and then inhaling through its blowhole.
We saw several other whales “farther” away, which were still much closer to our relatively small and quiet boat than I had ever been to anything nearly so large or so majestic.
Patchwork was a few feet longer than our boat and twice the weight.
When we were done being in absolute awe of this amazing creature, we drifted over to Gannet Rock and Russel prepared lunch.
He cooks burgers, sausages, and even bacon on a charcoal grill- right on the fiberglass deck of the boat.
Transport Canada, he explains, has decided this is safer than a propane barbecue setup.
We feasted on meat (veggie dogs were available, but even the so-called vegetarians ate barbecued bacon- it’s like nothing in this world), potato chips, fudgie-Os (a uniquely Canadian phenomenon, about a million times better than Oreos, and they were double-stuffed to boot), and soda.
When we all felt sufficiently close to bursting or having a heart attack we scoped out the island through binoculars and camera lenses.
To our delight there was a Canadian Coast Guard helicopter on the island. It appeared that its passengers were planning to build something on Gannet Rock as they had survey equipment with them, and they waved to us. 5 of the 6 men seemed to be on their lunch break as they were sitting on folding chairs (“they’re eating some pasta!” Colin announced to the rest of us) and the other continued working.
We then returned to Kent Island, and we were back a little after 2 pm, leaving plenty of time for Elisabeth and me to make dinner.
I discovered that when walking across the basin one is better off barefoot than wearing boots- the water is warm, the mud is squishy, and one can’t fill their boots or get them stuck in the mud when carrying them.
Because we weren’t sure when we’d be back, however, we had set aside and frozen a vegetarian lasagna and a batch of snickerdoodles ahead of time.
As I heated the oven for bread baking and started chopping onions for a pot of real chowder, Elisabeth, who had also burned her hand (on the boat exhaust when we had been sitting on the uppermost deck) so we had blisters to match, hunted for dessert recipes in Marjorie Standish’s classic Cooking Down East.
She made an amazing batch of Cranberry Blondies, which we remember as being a favorite of one of the captains of our Ultimate Frisbee team, and some scratch-baked brownies, using unsweetened baking chocolate, to boot.
It seemed that three desserts would certainly be sufficient.
The chowder came out great: it’s one of the best foods that is even close to as easy to make as it is, and we had four pounds of fresh Pollock Damon had bought at the “extremely well-hidden” fish shop on Grand Manan to go with the canned clams I found upstairs.
Almost equally exciting, the clam cans were exactly the right size for making Boston Brown Bread.
We don’t have any rye flour, though….perhaps I can figure something out with whole-wheat and caraway seeds.
While everything was simmering away and once all the dishes had been cleaned and put away, Elisabeth and I went for a trail run toward the North End of the island.
She described the experience as being like “following a forest nymph because you don’t wear shoes.”
I think I’ll take to carrying fairy dust with me when we go from now on.
We were glad to have the lasagna, as many people were not interested in eating seafood.
The entire pan disappeared quickly, along with both loaves of bread.
After we’d all eaten as much as we could stand to given our experiences earlier in the day, we began the routine of evening recreation.
Emily and I went out to add the insulation (part mud, part alfalfa bale) layer to the oven, assisted by Kathryn and overseen by Elisabeth.
The work went quickly so we migrated back indoors.
Everyone was a bit lethargic, and plans to sleep on South Hill were blown away by the cold wind that came through suddenly around sunset.
I picked up my knitting while others read or worked on crossword puzzles, until Kathryn convinced us all to play a round of Tank, in part to demonstrate the game to the Upward Bound students.
While we were hesitant and tired, we were glad we’d started playing once we’d begun, and we continued for three rounds.
A movie night was considered but no one seemed to have a laptop available for such activities.
Kathryn started a batch of granola, her first, which came out perfectly.
The group settled into the library for a game of Beyond Balderdash, which had us all engaged and amused.
The night’s activities wore on until nearly midnight, when we all abruptly rediscovered how tired we were and meandered to our beds.
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