Feltham Rambles

I posted earlier this week about my upcoming trip to Newfoundland and provided a nice photo tour of Gros Morne --> http://jfeltham.blogspot.com/2007/08/10-days-10-days-10-days.html

Another major portion of the trip will be spent in St. John’s, the provinces capital city and oldest city in North America. This port city of about 200,000 people is drenched in history and breathtaking natural beauty. It has been very interesting to watch the transformation of St. John’s over the years, as rural Newfoundland has been dying a fast and painful death; the city’s economy has been exploding and is not expected to slow down anytime soon. The city is already a world leader in ocean technology and has one the highest number (per capita) of engineers and scientists in the world. The ever increasing offshore oil industry has been pumping a much needed economic revival into the area, employing roughly 7000 people and contributing one billion yearly to the local economy.

During our five days there, we plan to get in some awesome coastal hikes, along with whale and sea bird watching and general exploring around the 400 plus year old settlements scattered around the Avalon Peninsula area. St. John’s also has one of the best live music scenes in Canada, with the overall night life leaving you with the feeling that you are in a city ten times its size. George Street is the heart of the entertainment district and has nearly 50 bars, clubs and pubs on one small cobble stone street. In addition, there are at least 25 other unique places to enjoy a cold one within a five minute walking distance of the center of George. Needless to say, there will be a string of wild nights to be had in downtown; loving the fact that most people there are just “getting on the go” when the majority of nightlife spots in North America are winding down or already closed.

The areas overwhelming abundance of local art, literature and music is proudly displayed in the endless amount of novelty shops located across the city. It’s always inspiring to have a puff and stroll around downtown, popping in and out of these shops in between coffee breaks, along with the occasional engaging conversation with total strangers. Hopefully I will call this city my hometown again in the near future, until then I will soak up as much as I can in a couple of weeks to hold me over until that time…

The Rock's new-found nationalism
It's easy to write off the province's grievances, but there's good reason why the word 'secession' is being heard
MICHAEL TEMELINI

Let's face it, in the dispute over the Atlantic Accord and equalization, it's hard to take seriously the position of Newfoundland and Labrador. It's easy to dismiss Danny Williams's behaviour as grandstanding or greed. Columnist Derek DeCloet described the Premier's equalization policy as a "popular stunt" and his government's demand for 5-per-cent public ownership in offshore oil projects as a "Danny Chavez routine." On the Atlantic Accord, this newspaper's editorial warned: "The mice should be careful not to bite off more than the country will let them chew."

The problem with superficial commentaries is that they underestimate the sincerity of popular opposition to federal policies. More critically, they fail to appreciate the authenticity of resurgent Newfoundland nationalism.

If we want a federalism based on just and fair principles, we need to start by taking this nationalism seriously - not as opportunism, but as an authentic form of patriotism aimed at progressive social improvement. Recognizing that Newfoundland clearly constitutes a national minority opens our eyes to the legitimacy of its various historical demands for self-determination and special status. Justice entails addressing historic grievances, not cleverly avoiding them.

Many Newfoundlanders, and I'm referring to those on the island, not in Labrador, are genuinely fed up with Canada. In letters to the editor, call-in shows and editorial columns, some have even suggested secession. But this is not Quebec (or Scotland). There are no popular political organizations actively promoting such strategies, at least not yet. Newfoundland nationalism is expressed in unique music, literature, art, and theatre, and finds its voice in provincial politics. Newfoundlanders regard their House of Assembly with more relevance than the Parliament of Canada as the guardian of national interest. The fullest expression of national self-determination is not based on language and culture, as in Quebec, but on resource ownership and control.

Some might be tempted to dismiss this as copycat nationalism, in light of the federal government's recognition of the Québécois nation. But this would be a profound ignorance of history. Several hundred years before incorporation into Canada, Newfoundland was a functioning European settler society with a distinct language and culture, within clearly defined borders, laws and institutions. The capital, St. John's, was founded in 1583, when Sir Humphrey Gilbert claimed the area under the Royal Charter of Queen Elizabeth I.

Its first civil court was established in 1791, and its first chief justice was appointed in 1792. A system of governors was established in 1729, the first popularly elected legislative assembly convened in 1832, and responsible government was achieved in 1855. From that date, Newfoundland was essentially a country and, except for the power to sign international treaties, it exercised all the normal powers of sovereignty that Canada did, including self-defence and the issuing of postage and legal tender. There's even a national anthem - the beloved Ode to Newfoundland - that is regularly performed at official ceremonies and still moves some to tears.

This long independent history profoundly influences Newfoundlanders' popular self-understanding. Many older citizens who were born in the Dominion of Newfoundland (and an increasing number of younger ones who were not) still lament the loss of their historic state. Refusing to see themselves as a region, "Atlantic" Canada and the neighbouring "Maritime" identity have no resonance. But Newfoundland nationalism is not a sentimental longing for a bygone era. Many are deeply disillusioned with Confederation, and have serious concerns about the province's steady economic decline since joining. In fact, there is compelling evidence that the billions of resource-based profits exported every year far exceed the net income received by federal transfer payments.

Another explanation for resurgent nationalism are the ominous demographic challenges. Unlike elsewhere in Canada, the 2006 census revealed that Newfoundland is slowly disappearing. Since the 1990s cod moratorium, 11 per cent of the population of just over half a million people has emigrated - 63,000 people. Dozens of historic outport communities are vanishing. This would be comparable to an exodus of more than a million people from Ontario. Imagine if the cities of Windsor, London, Kitchener, Sudbury and Thunder Bay began to disappear off the face of the map. Even more disturbing, the death rate has surpassed the birth rate. If these trends continue, very few people will be living outside the Labrador mining towns and the greater St. John's metropolitan area. We are witnessing an entire generation without hope, enthusiasm and access to meaningful, steady employment.

In this respect, many Newfoundlanders share the long-standing Québécois fear of disappearing and the historic struggle for survival. This is the motivation for special status under the equalization program. This need, not greed, explains the overwhelming consensus for the Atlantic Accord. It explains why this government, more than any other in Canada, has pursued public ownership and control over natural resources.

This is not to say that depopulation and economic decline are entirely Canada's fault. But Canadians and their governments do bear significant responsibility for siphoning off Newfoundland's wealth. Federal and provincial governments have refused either to recognize or help solve the province's economic and demographic crisis, and have offered no clear vision or assistance to address these problems. It seems that Canadians simply do not know, or care, that this 500-year-old civilization is disappearing.

This is the context in which the current demand for control over resources must be understood. Rather than seeing it as a money grab, this dispute must be understood as a golden opportunity to undo historic wrongs, and as an authentic desire for cultural survival and self-determination.

By DOUGLAS BELKIN
August 8, 2007; The Wall Street Journal

Four months after he first walked past the tidy, salt-sprayed house perched on a spit of granite at the edge of the Atlantic, Don Costantino's telephone rang in Maine. The home was for sale: four bedrooms, two baths, $20,000.

"I'll take it," Mr. Costantino said. He had never even stepped inside.

Up and down the rock-ribbed coast of Newfoundland in centuries-old fishing villages like this one, Americans and Europeans are taking advantage of a warming climate and a struggling regional economy to buy seaside summer homes for the price of a used SUV.

Not long ago, the number of Americans in Twillingate could have been counted on one hand. Today, the summer folks arrive each June and July from Tennessee, Ohio, Washington, California, New York and Massachusetts. The same scene is repeated down the road in Herring Neck and all along the coast in countless little towns like Greenspond and Trinity.


In Twillingate, at least 17 inns and bed-and-breakfasts regularly book Americans and Europeans, up from just two a decade ago. The tourists come to watch the shimmering procession of icebergs the size of city blocks that calve off the coast of Greenland and ride the Labrador Current past town between May and July. After the icebergs are gone, the waters fill with humpback, right and fin whales that spend summer feeding offshore.

Like Mr. Costantino, the bulk of the new breed of seasonal Newfoundlander bought property here after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. After the U.S. closed its airspace that morning, 38 planes crossing the Atlantic were grounded in Gander, the Canadian airport closest to Europe. Nearly 7,000 passengers were stuck for most of a week. The hospitality and kindness they enjoyed generated headlines around the world -- and spurred them to consider coming back.

"It put us on the map," says Albert Hillier, a real-estate agent with 22 years of experience selling homes in the area. "I think people began to understand what we're all about and word just spread."

Climate change is attracting some of the tourism. The average temperature during the summers in Newfoundland and Labrador has increased by nearly four degrees Fahrenheit over the past 20 years, says David Phillips, the Canadian government's senior climatologist. From 2001 through 2005, there were an average of 123 days when the weather was 77 degrees or warmer. In 1991-1995, it averaged just 63 days. Over the last 50 years the growing season -- the gap between winter's last frost and autumn's first -- has widened by three weeks.

In the Newfoundland accent that falls somewhere between Dublin and East London, Mr. Hillier says he sold "maybe one home in a thousand" to folks "from away" before 2001. Now Americans and Europeans make up 10% of the area's real estate business, he estimates.

Some Americans have begun to try to flip properties. New York artist Brian Byrne and his business partner bought a waterfront, six-bedroom home two years ago for $72,000. Now they're asking $170,000. "There's a lot of potential up there for tourism," Mr. Byrne says.

Even with the Canadian dollar hitting a 30-year-high against the U.S. dollar, saltbox cottages on the Atlantic side can be found for as little as $10,000. Despite some local hotspots, prices across the province are generally flat. The market for recreational homes climbed 13% in Canada last year but just 2% in Newfoundland, says Phil Soper, chief executive of Royal LePage of Toronto, a leading Canadian real-estate company. The average price of a small seaside home in rural Newfoundland is about $40,000.

"Newfoundland has the best deals in Canada," Mr. Soper says. "The cheapest places to buy recreational properties tend to be the places that are the farthest from the major Canadian cities."

Not including a six-hour ferry ride, the drive between St. John's, the capital of Newfoundland, and Montreal, the closest major Canadian city, is 1,600 miles. Direct flights from both the U.S. and London, however, have increased in recent years and that has helped to attract more Americans and Europeans.

On the island's west side, the Humber Valley Resort is selling condo and chalets in 1,100-unit luxury resort for as much as $1.15 million. The resort's marketing campaign in Britain boasts that the snow skiing is great, the five-hour flight from Gatwick is faster than fighting city traffic to a cottage in the Lake District, and the units are a better deal than a traditional cottage on the Irish coast.

In Twillingate, the influx is making some locals uneasy. Walter and Shirley Sharpe, lifelong residents, have even toyed with the idea of relocating to escape all the hubbub. Although there is virtually no crime in the area, a couple of years ago, Ms. Sharpe for the first time began locking the door to their house when her husband wasn't home. "You used to know everybody in town," Mr. Sharpe said. "Now you don't. Who knows who's up around here anymore? There could be criminals from the city who come to hide out."

Last year when Ms. Sharpe was walking her dogs they approached a tourist who yelled at her to keep them away. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened to her.

And in other towns not too far away some locals say Americans have built some enormous homes that are utterly out of sync with the area's architecture and history.

The jump in demand for local real estate by foreigners as well as among mainland Canadians comes as the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador continues to endure a prolonged out-migration. In 1992, with fish stocks severely depleted on the Grand Banks -- the nutrient rich underwater plateaus where the Gulf Stream and the Labrador Current merge -- the Canadian government imposed a moratorium on cod fishing, the lifeblood of these communities for 400 years. In a single day, 40,000 jobs disappeared.

Since then, the population of Canada has risen by 16% while the population of Newfoundland fell by 11%. The majority of the 61,000 people who left the province were from rural fishing villages, where populations have routinely shrunk by a third. Before the moratorium, Twillingate -- among the larger of these villages -- was home to 3,103 people. By 2006, its population was 2,448, a loss of 21%. Many people have headed west to work in the oil, gas and mining industries.

Mr. Costantino, a thickset 59-year-old who used to own a paint store in Wells, Maine, splits his time now between Florida and Newfoundland. He visited Twillingate a few years ago after his wife heard about it from a girlhood friend, and bought the house in the winter of 2002.

He's impressed by the icebergs, the whales and, more than anything, the people. "I came up in June and the house is vacuumed, the lawn is mowed," he says. "You pull into your driveway with something to unload and there are five people there to help you."

Newfoundlanders attribute their hospitality to the remoteness and isolation of the island -- it's the size of California with just two thirds the population of San Francisco -- and the ruggedness of the land. "People depend on each other here," says Cal King, who runs the Harbor View Restaurant up the road from Mr. Costantino's home. "We've been clinging to this rock for 500 years, this is our heritage, it's how we survived."

Mr. Costantino hopes that doesn't change. "I was in Wells before it got crowded," he says. "Then it got ruined, all the snotty people came."

During lunch today I made my way to the local sporting goods outlet and spend a large handful of cash on some new camping gear. This was in preparation for a major trip that Dani and I will be taking to Newfoundland in ten days from now… Actually, hold on a moment; let me write that out once again as I can almost feel the briny air in my nasal cavity, I WILL BE IN NEWFOUNDLAND IN TEN DAYS… AHHH… THAT FEELS SO FUCKING GREAT TO WRITE DOWN!!!

The highlight of the trip will be our five days in Gros Morne National Park, which is located on the West Coast of the Island. It has been at least six years since I have been in that area of my homeland and I cannot express the total excitement I am feeling now in anticipation of this trip. We will be getting in some major hikes along with some backcountry camping throughout the Long Range Mountains and Gulf of St. Lawrence region. The scenery in Gros Morne is unparalleled and attracts adventure and eco tourism enthusiasts from around the world. UNESCO declared the park a World Heritage Site in 1987 due to its unique and grandeur transitions from mountain to sea. The area also provides rare examples of the process of continental drift, where deep ocean crust and the rocks of the earth’s mantle lie exposed.

Although a camera could never do justice to an area like Gros Morne, here’s a photo tour of the location where yours truly will be hiking in ten days. Can you say relaxed? And, while you are saying relaxed, can you also say John might not return to the bloody mainland this time after spending two and half weeks in Newfoundland...