Lighthouses & Lobsters

Overcast and very windy today, although no sign of rain … yet.  Drove out to Lobster Cove lighthouse across the bay from Rocky Harbour.  Flags whipping and clanking against the flagpole (wonder how often they need to be replaced?).  Three letter flags spelled out L U N, so of course we asked the friendly Parks guy if they had any special meaning (they change them daily).  Apparently today’s is a local word for ‘a sheltered spot’ . . . appropriate in view of the strong gusts and galloping whitecaps.  The seagulls are loving it, but batten down your hats!  Stunted, weather-leaning trees (Tuckamore) indicate the prevailing winds – but they sure provide welcome shelter as you walk along the cliff tops.  Blankets of golden dandelions cover every grassy meadow and slope . . .  tiny wild strawberry blossoms nestle in protected hollows . . .  red and yellow-hued warblers sing lustily from sheltered branches and tiny (unidentified as yet) titmouse-type birds flip and dip in among the wild heather and blueberry bushes, tick-tick-ticking to each other, but never staying still long enough to photograph.

The light was last manned for 69 years thanks to a father and son combination,

before being automated sometime in the early 70s, but the keeper’s house is open for public viewing and is filled with great stories and artifacts . . . like the old canvas postbag that was used to rescue a baby girl from a shipwreck.  An Ugly Stick and other homemade instruments available to play (if the urge took one) . . . and the old-fashioned stove which was in fact a cleverly disguised modern digital variety!

In need of sustenance (and some warming up) we espied a likely-looking local eatery, advertising moose burgers and lobster, and ordered steaming bowls of creamy fish chowder stuffed with huge chunks of salmon, cod and halibut, and mopped up with a crusty roll.  The wind picked up and the building rattled and creaked . . . the waves in the bay instead of coming into the shore were actually being blown out to sea in a swath of spray, and the white caps further out raced to meet them.  Suddenly Glen leapt out of his seat and ran outside … he’d spotted a solid wooden rubbish bin blown over and start rolling down the incline towards one of the parked cars.  “Gawd love ‘im, and dat’s my carre, too!” exclaimed the restaurant owner as she peered anxiously out the window, while two people were buffeted across the street.

Figuring it was best to pick up the makings of dinner now, rather than battling the wind and rain again later, we drove all of 5 minutes to the fish plant at the end of the street.  The seafood selection was extensive, if frozen – cod, halibut, salmon, prawns, scallops, kippers, shrimp,

flatfish.  The crabs and lobsters, however, were fresh …. and lively.  Four unlucky individuals were selected, their claws securely banded – fortunately, as they were not happy with this sudden change in circumstances.  Transportation was not a problem – a stack of cardboard boxes was available . . .  but did we have a big enough pot to cook them in?  A local in the store suggested his method for cooking …  however boiling for 30 minutes seemed a little excessive.  We went with the Google option of 10 minutes, and it worked out perfectly.

Cooking one at a time and chilling in the fridge until later, to be served with baked potatoes, baby carrots, lemon and butter plus bread to mop up the juices.  Every succulent morsel was savoured fully . . .  and fingers licked!  Cherry cheesecake to finish.  Pure decadence.