Thirty years ago My father, my nephew and I packed up my brand new Isuzu Trooper and headed for Newfoundland for a camping and fishing trip.
Leaving my parents retirement home in Pembroke, Maine we took the long drive to the northern most tip of Nova Scotia to grab the ferry to Newfoundland.
We arrived at the terminal in early evening for a night time crossing. The crossing took about seven hours and was actually very rough. While my father took a nap my nephew Roger and I sat towards the front of the boat watching huge waves crash over the bow. Our arrival in southwest Newfoundland brought us to what seemed like a different world. The scenery was stark and the vistas expansive. We drove up along the coast looking for a prime fishing spot,
passing lighthouses and churches along the way.
We found a campground and river system to fish.
Unfortunately for the fishing a very dry spring kept the water level very low in the rivers keeping the salmon out to sea. We still caught dozens of fish but most of them were very small. Even without good fishing the trip was a spectacular success.
