By Dan Miller, Paul Delaney, Peter Noel and Peter Armitage
1:50,000 scale NTS map 1 M/9 Harbour Buffett.
Nautical chart "Head of Placentia Bay" Chart #4839
Trip map (click on image to enlarge. Map by Dan Miller)
"Leave no trace - take your garbage home with you, and leave nature the way you found it"
We began our trip on Friday evening, September 22nd, 2000, at Kilmory Resort in Swift Current. Kilmory is a comfortable spot overlooking Piper's Hole River and the Bears Folly Mountains. Launching from here for a day paddle or to start a trip south towards Woody Island and Bar Haven are good options. However, Davis Cove on the Burin Peninsula would be our launch site the next morning. The village is only an hour’s drive from Swift Current, with approximately 25 km of the drive being a well graded gravel road.
Davis Cove does not have the best launch sites. At low tide, one can launch from a couple of narrow beaches to the north of the public wharf which are reached by teetering across a steep rock-strewn breakwater. However, at high tide, these locations evaporate meaning that one would have to find alternative launch or landing locations elsewhere in the cove. We did not scout out alternative sites. One thing is certain; such alternatives would require a fair hike from the public wharf and parking area. The reason for this is that much of Davis Cove is spread out along the shore which is not accessible by car - only foot paths. On another note, the public wharf at Davis Cove has an "out-house" for last-minute evacuation of body wastes.
Launch site at Davis Cove (click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
Public wharf and launch site at Davis Cove (click on image to enlarge. Photo Paul Delaney)
Having loaded our kayaks, we held a brief huddle to discuss safety procedures and equipment. Who had first aid kits, where were they located, who had flares, compasses, VHF radios, cell phones, spare paddles, axes, matches, etc. (we’d discussed all this previously during our trip planning meeting)? Peter Noel had extensive navigation experience having sailed for many years on the east coast of the Avalon Peninsula, and in combination with various technological aids (GPS), we weren’t at all worried about getting lost or an inability to call for help in the event of an emergency (the area is covered by cell phone).
We departed the Cove at 9:00 am with sunny but windy conditions – westerlies blowing at about 40 km/hour with gusts to 50 km/hour. Given the fact that this portion of the eastern shore of the Burin Peninsula runs pretty much north-south, we figured that we’d be pretty sheltered from the strong westerlies.
Our goal for the day was to head north towards the resettled community of Prowseton and Great Sandy Harbour where we would look for a suitable camping spot. Of course, our progress would depend entirely on wind conditions. As we paddled north, a few bald eagles flushed from their cliff-side perches and solitary sea-pigeons (black guillemots) bobbed nervously nearby.
The terrain between Davis Cove and Little Sandy Harbour is quite steep, consisting of forested slopes interrupted every so often by patches of barren marsh complexes of moss, caribou lichen, Labrador tea, laurel and twisted tuckamoor. Despite the strong vertical contour of the land, numerous landing spots are available that may provide escape from adverse winds, at least at low tide and as long at the winds are not too strong from the east or southeast.
Rounding Nan Point that day, we got our first taste of the strength of the west winds that we had been sheltered from so far in the trip. These are the kinds of winds that make forward progress hard work and that attempt to rip the paddle out of your hands without warning. Nonetheless, Little Sandy Harbour has a relatively small fetch from the west, so the wave conditions weren’t all that bad. With a bit of effort, we quickly arrived in the protected reaches at the western end of the Harbour. Here, we investigated a stream in the southwest corner of the harbour - an area which showed no sign of a suitable camp spot.
The north side of Little Sandy Harbour is quite pretty as it presents a long, gently-sloped, sandy beach. We couldn’t resist this spot as a location for our dinner (lunch) break. It’s a narrow isthmus of tree-covered low-land that joins the Burin Peninsula to Prowseton. Some of the remains of a small homestead known as "Little Sandy Harbour" are still visible here, most significantly in the form of a rotting saw mill on a path leading across the isthmus to Great Sandy Harbour. We followed this path north to the greater Harbour which is where we quickly located a couple of good camp locations within easy reach of a brook.
Little Sandy Harbour, paddling towards the sandy beach
(click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
Paul Delaney besides the remains of the sawmill at Little Sandy
Harbour
(click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
The skeletal remains of a derelict long-liner sit forlornly on the beach here. This wooden carcass has no clear identity; any remnant of paint that named it has long since dissolved into the waters of the Harbour. However, we learned subsequently that the boat was a 45-50 foot longliner named "Western Tickle," owned by Tom Brewer of Southern Harbour. The boat had apparently burnt some 15 years ago at Placentia, and was towed back to the area of the sawmill for repairs. Needless-to-say, the repairs were never completed.
Great Sandy Harbour. Our campsite was on the distant shore, to
the right of the boat
(click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
After dinner, we decided to take our chances with the wind again and to head around Jigging Point to Civil East Cove. From Nan Point, on the south side of Little Sandy Harbour, one can see a cabin inside of Civil East Cove where Prowseton proper is situated. It’s not until one actually paddles into the Cove that one realizes that Prowseton is quite a mini-metropolis. Turning the corner into the Cove, we were surprised to see several boats, a dozen cabins, stages and various other structures. Where there used to be the typical salt-box, outport houses, little cabins have sprung up in recent years. Several families that were resettled to Little Harbour, Southern Harbour, and Arnold's Cove in 1967 maintain summer places here for fishing and for just getting away. In the absence of good topsoil, many families have planted cabbages and flowers in salt-beef buckets and other containers. Well-kept lawns and stacks of firewood provide additional evidence of the industriousness of the residents.
The food fishery was on the go that weekend, so Prowseton was hopping with activity. Several inhabitants came out on their wharves to chat with us. Paul made himself popular by asking the b’ys if the beer store was open. All the while, a woman pushed a lawn mower back and forth across the lawn in front of her cabin.
Prowseton (click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
The Encyclopedia of Newfoundland and Labrador says that Prowseton "was for many years known as Seevely’s or Sibley’s Cove….The island which shelters the Cove is still identified on maps as Civil East Island and it may be that Sibley’s Cove was simply a corruption of this name….The original settlers of Prowseton were probably attracted by the Sandy Harbour River for salmon fishing and access to the interior. It is likely that they were Irish fishing servants brought out by West Country firms with premises at nearby Bar Haven" (vol.4, p.467).
Although we easily could have camped at Prowseton, we decided not to linger because we hoped to paddle a fair bit further that day. Heading north up the cove, we had the sense that the fisher folk we left behind were probably thinking we kayakers were a bit stunned to be out on the water given the strong winds and storm warnings for Sunday. We pressed on, turning the corner into Great Sandy Harbour and the full force of the 40-50 km/hour winds. The tide was flowing back into the Harbour through the narrows here, meaning that, with the ferocious westerlies, quite a good chop was on the water. We had to paddle like "the bejesus" to get across the Harbour into the lee of the hills on the other side. From there, paddling north and northwest up the Harbour, the fetch, winds and chop diminished progressively.
The narrow fiord leading up to the waterfalls at the mouth of the Sandy Harbour River is very pretty, with rugged tree-clad hills cut by numerous small streams lining the entire length. This area is reputed to be a good spot for sea-run trout, and we saw a couple of rocky outcrops that looked like good casting locations. However, the end of September is apparently too late in the season for fishing trout; early May being a vastly more productive time of the year according to local environmental knowledge.
The forests on some of the hillsides in this fiord have a lot of standing deadwood. It was hard to know if this was the result of insect damage or domestic wood cutting activities. We suspected that insects were probably the most likely villain in scarring the landscape here.
We’d hoped to camp near the falls, but the terrain was either too wet or bolder-strewn in its vicinity. Alas, a refreshing swim in the freshwater at the foot of the falls would have been an ideal way to erase the bottled sweat that had built up under dry tops and wet suits during the day. Paul narrowly escaped a dip when he tried to position himself for a photo on the eddy-line in the current at the base of the falls.
Waterfalls at the head of Great Sandy Harbour (click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
Paul Delaney about to cross the eddy-line (click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
On the way back down the fiord, we checked a couple of the Harbour’s small arms for suitable camping locations, but found only one, on the west side of the Harbour, a couple of coves further west of our eventual campsite. This site consisted of a tiny sand spit within easy reach of a small brook at low tide. Armitage complained of claustrophobia and managed to persuade the others to move on. Shortly thereafter, we set up camp near the isthmus between Little and Great Sandy Harbours, on a flat, grassy sand bar near the beached long-liner we’d seen earlier in the day.
Unfortunately, while ideal for parking kayaks and setting up tents, our camp location was separated from the isthmus at high tide. Little firewood was available because the site was backed by a large marshy area. Driftwood gathered along the high-tide mark was our only source of firewood for the evening (one can walk across the channel to the isthmus at low tide to get firewood. Reasonable camping spots can probably be found in the vicinity of the old sawmill as well, but we didn’t scout out the possibilities in this area). Supper consisted of a delicious meal of curried chicken and rice followed by tea and numerous Fig and Raspberry Newtons.
View northeast from our camp at Great Sandy Harbour
(click on image to enlarge. Photo Paul Delaney)
Paul had spent five years in Chile working as a geologist, and while there, developed some good star-gazing abilities. The night skies in Chile are fantastic due to high elevation, lack of water vapour and light pollution, and other factors, which is why so many of the world’s most important observatories have been built there. Paul put his stellar knowledge to work by pointing out Orion, Cassiopeia, Taurus, Pleaides and other constellations to his astronomically-challenged companions. A shooting star graced the sky at one point, and the steady stream of high-altitude, aircraft navigation lights reminded us that Newfoundland is an important waypoint for intercontinental travelers. Three of us had to get up for a "widdle" at 2:00 am, and Paul took advantage of the occasion to provide yet another lecture on the beautiful night sky, whose moonless brilliance was enough to make constellations like Orion obvious even without glasses.
On Sunday, we awoke to overcast skies but no wind. Checking the Coastguard’s marine weather forecasts on our VHF radios, we were reminded of an approaching storm from the south. Breakfast consisted of fried eggs, sausage, toast, coffee and tea. We ate royally on this trip, right?
The rain started just as we were breaking camp and re-packing our kayaks. No matter. With spray skirts and dry tops on, one doesn't notice the rain. It's only wind (and lightning) that makes you take notice. Much of Great Sandy Harbour is very shallow, especially at low tide, so on our way out to Placentia Bay, we could easily see the flourishing beds of kelp and grasses along the Harbour bottom. The biological productivity of this Harbour must be very high for many aquatic species.
We decided to head further north up the coast to explore possible camp sites and refuges on Bar Haven Island or locations in between. A narrow passage into a very sheltered bay is located about 3 km north of Great Sandy Harbour. Analogous to St.John’s harbour, this bay is not named on the NTS map or nautical chart, but locally, it’s referred to as "Gulch Pond" (note its proximity to Gulch Head which is across from Bar Haven Island). The tide was pouring out of the "pond" which created white water conditions because the rip was so strong. We had to fight our way up over the "rapids" into the pond where a curious seal raised its head to look as us as we entered. Numerous twillicks (greater yellow legs), semipalmated plovers, and a loon joined us on the pond. This was a very picturesque little spot, with rugged hills on two sides; a great place to spend a night we thought, but lacking in shelter from strong southerly winds and rain.
View south down Gulch Pond (click on image to enlarge. Photo Paul Delaney)
Much of the shore at the southwestern corner of the pond is too marshy and wet for camping, but a barren knoll, covered with Labrador tea, is located there, which, if cleared in places, would support tents. This knoll is very close to the mouth of a brook that enters into the pond at the southwest end. Two brooks also enter the north end of the pond, and one could camp here as well, although access at low tide is difficult. We found fresh signs of domestic wood cutting in this area. Another possible camping spot lies at the entrance to the pond, on a grassy terrace overlooking the "rapids," where "grass grounds" indicate previous habitation or a fishing station. A trickle of potable water can be found in the small inlet immediately west of this site.
Leaving Gulch Pond, we continued out around Gulch Head with only a gentle swell from the south to help us along. Some bald eagles soared overhead, and solitary, juvenile sea-pigeons paddled warily by. We decided to head for Browns Cove on Bar Haven Island as the NTS map suggested it would probably provide good shelter from strong southerly winds and seas. Indeed, a fine camping ground awaited us there. The pebbly beach is gently sloped and easy to land on, while the grassy terrace will support up to eight tents. A brook enters the Cove from the east but is difficult to get to at high tide.
Our campsite at Browns Cove, Bar Haven Island (click on image to enlarge. Photo Peter Armitage)
We weren’t the first to camp at this spot as a stone hearth and abandoned Coleman stove demonstrated. Dan’s Optimus stove had blown its gas tank seal that morning, so we had good luck finding the two-burner Coleman machine. One problem – the fuel pump was frozen solid. "No problemo," says Dan, who squirted some toxic Muskol into the piston to loosen the leather seal and act as a lubricant. Presto…one functioning stove at your service! The French term for this kind of ingenuity is bricolage, which loosely translated means, the ability to fashion solutions using whatever materials are at hand.
We set up camp in the drizzle in Browns Cove before making any decision about what to do next. We knew a storm was approaching, but didn’t know exactly when. After dinner, with the winds and seas still quite calm, we decided to cheat the approaching storm by exploring the north end of the island. On our way there, we tried to outpace a long-liner that was trawling for cod on the way. The only suitable camping spot on the north end of the island is on a sandy, grass-covered point that serves as someone’s lobster pot warehouse. However, there is no source of potable water at this location. Numerous cabins on the neighbouring Woody Island are clearly visible from this point, and could be reached with an easy paddle to the north.
What were we saying about cheating the storm? No sooner had we arrived at the north end of the island when the wind started to pick up, hitting velocities of 40 to 60 km/hour in an astonishingly short period of time. So much for lazy paddling. Once again, we had to fight like "the bejesus" into the wind, with one metre waves all the way back to camp. Nothing like a bit of adrenaline to finish off the paddling day. We were very happy we didn't have to go too far because it was damn hard work paddling straight into that wind.
At Browns Cove, we'd created a little clearing in the woods in anticipation of heavy rain. Here we built a hearth for a fire and hung a tarp from the trees. That's where we huddled away from the rain; cooking supper, sharing a few libations, and swapping stories. Armitage used his companions as guinea pigs by boiling up the dehydrated chili soup concoction he’d prepared a week before for supper. Bannock cakes were also on the menu. Peter Noel announced that these were really "toutins," an important element in Newfoundland cuisine (although bannock – a staple of the fur trade throughout northern Canada - is not fried in fat). Some homemade blueberry jam materialized out of thin air to sweeten a fat toutin later in the evening.
The storm abated over night, and by morning, we had calm conditions again as well as the beginnings of some blue sky. Heading off at a leisurely pace about 9:00 am, more eagles greeted us as well as the odd sea-pigeon. Only a slight swell challenged us from the south - nothing to make one nervous on the water in any way.
On the way back through Prowseton, we met Ron and Anne Pine on their stage, the only people remaining in the outport after the weekend’s food fishery. They were tidying up after the fishery, and invited us in for a coffee. We spent a good hour hearing about the local history, fishing sea trout in Great Sandy Harbour, their daughter’s experiences "caving" in southern England, etc. Ron told us that, prior to resettlement, no one lived on Civil East Island where their cabin is built. Today, there are four or five cabins surrounding the Pine’s - all relatives.
Prowseton (click on image to enlarge. Photo Paul Delaney)
Ron's beagle was driving him cracked because it had become neurotically fixated on a squirrel that had swum across the channel to the island. Anne broke the news to us that a Norwegian kayaker had just been found dead on the shores of Lake Melville in Labrador.
The Pines spend many weeks at Prowseton each year, often staying there until December. Ron was born and raised there, while Anne is from Stephenville. They now reside in Little Harbour on the other side of Placentia Bay and commute to Prowseton by boat.
We arrived back in Davis Cove at 1:00 pm at low tide, having spent another very enjoyable few days in the "wilds" of Newfoundland.
Davis Cove (click on image to enlarge. Photo Paul Delaney)
Safety Considerations
Trip Summary
Distances: Total distance covered in three days = approx. 53 kms
Distance from Browns Cove to Davis Cove, as the crows flies = 12.5 kms
Return traveling time from Browns Cove to Davis Cove, ideal conditions = approx. 3 hours.
Wildlife seen: a loon, seal, sea-pigeons (black guillemots), black-capped chickadees, gulls, bald eagles (mature and immature), twillicks (greater yellow legs), semipalmated plovers, murders of crows, fresh moose tracks, moose, caribou and rabbit feces. Aquatic species included kelp, eel grass, starfish, crabs, mackerel, connors, etc. (no jellyfish). The water was quite clear, so that in shallow depths, it was possible to view all kinds of benthic fauna and other aquatic species.
The eastern side of the Burin Peninsula is certainly a very beautiful area. We all rated it very highly in terms of the quality of the scenery, exploration value, and paddling pleasure. We pledged to return to the Davis Cove area again next season.
The islands, prominent hills and cliffs around Placentia Bay make for extraordinary scenery. The area is especially attractive to sea kayakers because it presents many options for tripping. In addition to the trip described above, options include trips from Davis Cove to Garden Cove or Swift Current via Woody Island, to Bar Haven village (resettled but now re-occupied with cabin dwellers), Merasheen Island, or southwest to Presque Harbour and St. Kryan’s.
With the appropriate sea and wind conditions, one could paddle from Davis Cove to nearby Chambers Island followed by a relatively short crossing to Ragged Islands and Merasheen Island. The shortest stretch of open water on this crossing is about 3.5 kms because of the White Islands chain that lies in the middle of Western Channel, Placentia Bay.