Return to Davis Cove

1:50,000 scale NTS maps 1 M/9 Harbour Buffett, 1 M/16 Sound Island.
Nautical chart "Head of Placentia Bay" Chart #4839.

Trip details: July 28-30, 2007. Total distance paddled approximately 56 km. Fauna and flora encountered: several loons and eagles, two caribou (1 cow, 1 stag), one river otter, two mergansers, numerous terns, one kingfisher, an osprey or two, two pine grosbeaks, gulls, ravens, gigantic eel grass meadow, etc.

Map showing our paddling route and major points of interest (thumbnail - click on image to enlarge)

It's hard to believe that seven years has past since my first trip to the Davis Cove area of Placentia Bay. That trip had been late in September 2000 with Paul Delaney, Dan Miller and Peter Noel. We had camped the first night under the stars at Great Sandy Harbour, and the second in torrential rains in Browns Cove on the west side of Bar Haven Island. We never made it over to the resettled village of Bar Haven due to strong winds. Click here to view the report from that trip.

It was the same on a second trip to Bar Haven Island a few years later with Alison Dyer, Leslie Grattan, Dan Miller, and Sue Toller. We spent two nights in Browns Cove on that trip, wind bound for an entire day with gale force northerlies blasting down the channel between Sound and Woody Islands.

Third time lucky I guess. On this most recent trip, I paddled with Alison Dyer, Barb Neis, Sarah Roberts, and James Youden, along with Sarah and James' two children, Clare and Evan. Barb and I paddled one double, and Sarah and James each had a double with Clare and Evan in the front cockpits respectively. Our plan was for Alison, Barb and I to paddle from Davis Cove to Swift Current, with two camps along the route, and for the Roberts-Youden family to return to Davis Cove on the Sunday with one night out. Sarah kindly agreed to drive our vehicle back to Swift Current so that we wouldn't have to retrieve it at the completion of the trip.

We departed Davis Cove about 2:00 pm on Saturday, July 28, 2007, with a fairly strong southwesterly at our backs and dense fog draped over the islands and coastline to the south. The first leg-stretch and pee break arrived about one hour north on the beautiful sandy beaches of Little Sandy Harbour. Clare and Evan retrieved various toys including plastic buckets and boats, and played along the shore as their parents snacked and admired the scenery.

The first view into Little Sandy Harbour having turned the corner on Nan Point (left). Alison paddling into the Harbour with a glimpse of Prowseton in the distance (right).

The gorgeous beach at Little Sandy Harbour. You can see why the harbour is so-named.

You can see from the photos below that little remains of the derelict saw mill we encountered in September 2000. These remains protrude from wet ground on the short portage that takes you across a narrow, alder-invested isthmus to Great Sandy Harbour. That's where the whale ribs of the "Western Tickle," a 45-50 foot long-liner lie rotting on the beach. We had learned in 2000 that this vessel was once owned by Tom Brewer of Southern Harbour. It had apparently burnt in the mid-1980s at Placentia, and was towed back to the area of the sawmill for repairs that were never made. The rapid decay of the sawmill and long-liner reminded me a bit of Alan Weisman's new book, The World WIthout Us, concerning the rate at which nature would swallow up the humungous infrastructure our civilization has created thus far, if humans disappeared or were no longer capable of continuous maintenance (with the exception of plastics, radioactive by-products of nuclear power generation, etc.).

The remains of the sawmill in September 2000, with Paul Delaney investigating (left). The same remains in July 2007 (right).

The view of Great Sandy Harbour from the alder-choked "portage" across the isthmus.

In the photo on the left taken in September 2000, the hull of the Western Tickle is still pretty much intact, but by 2007, it has burst apart, with the ribs and planking sinking into the sand, or washing away.

This is where we camped in 2000. Camping places in Great Sandy Harbour are few and far between, and the real estate at this particular location shrinks considerably at high tide. Furthermore, there's no nearby brook for drinking water, so be sure to transport plenty of water if you plan to camp here.

Two views of Prowseton. Although the village was resettled, there may well be more buildings here than ever before, although no one resides full-time. A fisher we met at Prowseton said that the lobster were scarce in their part of Placentia Bay this season, an observation we received from someone in Bar Haven the following day.

The entrance to the Gulch Pond (left). The view of the tidal race that pours in and out of the Gulch Pond from just inside the narrows (right). You can see the white water in this photo. The Pond was emptying on Sunday morning as we set off, and the combination of tidal current and incoming swell/wind waves made for exciting, closely spaced standing waves up to 1 metre in height. Barb, who was stationed in our front cockpit, got a good soaking on the way out.

The grassy knoll at the entrance to Gulch Pond is a beautiful place to camp. You can land your kayak at either end of the narrows, and you have beautiful views out over Placentia Bay as well as across much of the Pond. I was able to refill water bottles from a tiny brook near our campsite, using a water filter/pump system. Were this source dry, I'd visit the far larger brook at the northern end of the Pond in order to get water. Our brief time at this spot was graced with a gorgeous sunset, loons, osprey and a couple of mergansers. We awoke to fog, but this had pretty much burned off by the time we departed. The Roberts-Youden gang returned to Davis Point from here.

Day two, Sunday July 29th. The above photos were taken at a sandy spit near Carroll Point at the northwest corner of Bar Haven Island. Barb had a bad head cold that day and has passed out on the beach (left). Nature taking possession of western civilization once again (second left). Piles of lobster pots, some derelict, others used during the 2007 season (middle, right).

The wind was blowing pretty hard up the channel separating the Island and the Burin Peninsula, and so we decided to by-pass Browns Cove and continue around the north end of the island and into Bar Haven village. We were correct in our assumption that the north and northeastern sides of the island would be quite protected from the blustery, southwest winds. We decided to camp on the Carroll Point spit later in the day rather than fight our way an extra couple of kilometres back to Browns Cove. That meant that we were unable to check on the old Coleman stove that Paul, Dan, Peter and I had found in the bushes during our 2000 camp there. Dan had rehabilitated the leather washer in the fuel pump with some paint-stripping insect repellent, and the damned thing was still working when we returned on the second trip a few years later.

The Carroll Point spit is a better camping spot than Browns Cove in some respects, although there is no source of drinking water. The spit is larger and has a great view north of the White Hills on the Burin Peninsula, Little Woody and Woody Islands. Access to the barren, higher elevations of Bar Haven Island is easy by following a short, well-trodden moose trail. Bake apple plants are abundant in these barrens, although they weren't quite ripe during the period of our visit. The Newfoundland Encyclopedia says that Bar Haven Island was originally called Barren Island which is not surprising given the nature of the terrain in the higher elevations.

I suspect that the Carroll Point spit is a major thoroughfare for moose transiting between the island and the mainland, which means that camping there could be very exciting during rut. Were you to tent near the entrance to the moose trail at that time of year, you could end up being the first camper ever to be stampeded by a frisky bull moose, at least on Bar Haven Island.

Landing on the barasway that separates Bar Haven harbour from Western Cove (left). The view south across Western Cove (second left). Cabins belonging to former residents of Bar Haven (second from right, right). Locals we met there said that Bar Haven had been a Catholic community and so when they were resettled in the late 1960s, they moved to Southern Harbour along with other Catholic residents of Placentia Bay. Many of the Protestants of Placentia Bay resettled in Arnold's Cove they said.

One of the locals directed us to this graveyard at Bar Haven village, saying that she is a descendant of the Lawrence Murphy who is buried there. Mr. Murphy was one of the first settlers on the island. Work continues on a community hall, located near the graveyard, where periodic reunions of former residents are held.

A well maintained trail facilitates pedestrian traffic between Bar Haven village, Glendon Cove and Western Cove to the south. This is a view along the hills, south towards Western Cove. The distance across this trail is more than two kilometres.

The north end of Bar Haven Island looking northwest toward Sugarloaf Islet. Fog streaming along the channel from the south. Browns Cove was completely fogged in by this time while the Carroll Point spit remained fog free.

Day Three, Monday, July 30th. Soldier's Cove directly west of Woody Island. Someone appears to have abandoned a cabin-building project near the shore. The flooring would make an excellent tent platform. The Cove would be a good place to camp for people seeking refuge from the tourists and cabin-dwellers on Woody Island.

The famous falls at Rattling Brook. Stripping off the hot, stinky paddling clothes in order to take a dip in this lovely pool just above the falls is an obligatory ritual for some of us.

This derelict is hidden away in a tiny inlet on the Burin Peninsula side of the channel, a short distance north of Rattling Brook (across from Sound Island).

Caribou are frequent visitors to the shores of the channel separating Sound Island and the Burin Peninsula. I've paddled this channel numerous times, and I've seen caribou there at least 50% of the time. The cow (left photo) was sitting behind a rock on a beach just north of Rattling Brook, and Alison saw it's antlers sticking up first. Disturbed by our not-so stealthy arrival, it soon roused itself and wandered into the woods. We congratulated Alison on her good eyesight. Then, while we were eating lunch on the beach on the small peninsula at Bob Spirer Cove (middle, right), a giant stag burst out of the woods aiming straight for us, seemingly intent on using the peninsula as its launching point for a swim across the channel to Sound Island. Fortunately for us, it trotted off in a huff along the shore and back into the bush. We'd been joking about the first caribou sighting, and I'd asked Alison when we expected to see a river otter, the next charismatic fauna on our wish list. The stag materialized before our eyes within a nano-second of that comment. Alison delivered on the otter not long thereafter, just past Bittern Cove on our way into Swift Current.

It goes without saying that the paddle into Swift Current is spectacular. Our take-out is the little white speck in the middle right of the photo, on the way up the channel towards the Piper's Hole River.

The Swift Current area must have some of the most significant eel grass meadows in the entire province of Newfoundland and Labrador. These areas provide crucial habitat for numerous species and therefore play an important role in coastal marine ecosystems. Let's hope these meadows remain unmolested by commercial development and irresponsible outdoor recreational pursuits (e.g. Seadoos).

The take-out at Swift Current is this public wharf and slip just off the highway. The turnoff to the public wharf can be easy to miss. You've missed the turnoff if you arrive at Kilmory Resort, when travelling from the direction of Goobies.