Camping au Bond de la Mer, Cap Chat, Canada
Lazy hands make a man poor, but diligent hands bring wealth. ~ Proverbs 10:4
Not such a great view from here . . . .
A very important announcement: Beginning on August 1st, we’ll be a week with VERY limited service – both internet and cell phone. So if you don’t hear from us, that’s why.
Today was a more relaxing day, as we people-watched from our coach, walked the beach and visited the wind farm.
We learned from yesterday and wore our water shoes to the beach, because of the rocks, and we enjoyed our stroll and were fascinated with the tide changes here along the river. It reminds us a bit of Burntcoat Head, Nova Scotia. Remember that place two years ago when the water level changed 45’ during the tides? One of my favorite places to visit!
There are a lot, and I mean a lot of one-night stands at this campground. At least at our end. There are tent campers that come in and out every day – some with cars, but some on bicycles. And a more than a few single or paired women (meaning there’s two women). They come in in the afternoon, set up their tents, spend the night and by 7-8am, they’re folded up and on their way. We’re most impressed with the cyclists. All that gear, balanced just so, and having to ride? I can’t hardly get up a bump in the road with just me on my bike, let alone having to drag all that stuff with me!
We were waiting to see her ride that thing! So disappointing! : )
Another thing that’s come to mind about the places we’ve been in Quebec? Lots of campfires, but no lighter fluid smell. These people actually know how to start a fire around here! Good for them!
And the service – especially the electric service – is much worse here. We have to be careful to only turn on one thing at a time, or the power goes out. Blaine’s constantly checking voltage. It’s a lovely spot nonetheless. And since it’s cooler now, we don’t need the air running, and we’re not home all that much anyway, so it’s working out fine.
I’m done rambling now. It’s time to learn about the world’s tallest vertical-axis wind turbine. Impressive sounding isn’t it? And you can actually climb to the top! Well, not this year. The climb is closed so they can do some repair work. The only guy there who spoke any English told us some of the ladder rungs, etc. are held together with duct tape! I know that stuff’s good, but really??? It’s good they were closed to visitors! But groups and tour buses were still showing up to learn stuff.
We didn’t do the tour, or listen to the talk. Our French isn’t quite good enough. 😊 But the guy told us this monstrosity is actually a failed experiment. Built in 1986, it closed in 1988 after two years because it took as much electricity to run the thing as it produced. It’s 360 feet tall and has 18 vertical ladders with cat walks, and it’s supported with 6 support towers and lots of thick cable and concrete. Must’ve cost a fortune for that experiment!
We could hear it whooshing as it spun. : )
We stopped at town park on the way home. They had a nice walkway, with information boards that we couldn’t read, but we got the gist.
They were about U-boats coming all the way up the St. Lawrence to the town of Cap Chat during WWII! Below is part of what they had:
Now the Royal Canadian Air Force threw all it could into the search for the deadly submarines. It rushed further bombers to Mont-Joli. Knowing that the very presence of air cover could deter the U-boats, the RCAF’s Eastern Air Command even ordered aircraft from the Operational Training Units in Greenwood and Debert, Nova Scotia, and from the General Reconnaissance Schools in Summerside and Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, into the air. Improved air cover could do little, however, if weather conspired against the defenders. And that is what happened with convoy QS-33. It was enveloped by fog between Cap-Chat and Gaspé and emerged the worst-mauled convoy of the Gulf contest.
Ironically, heavy air cover elsewhere drove the U-boats further up the Gulf, west of Pointe-des-Monts, where the St. Lawrence narrows to 50 kilometres in width. There, they intercepted eight merchant ships, escorted by the corvette HMCS Arrowhead, the minesweeper HMCS Truro, the armed yacht HMCS Raccoon and two Fairmile launches. The convoy was off Cap-Chat shortly after 10 p.m. on September 6, 1942, when U-165 sank the Greek merchant ship Aeas with a torpedo, killing two. The Arrowhead, the lead escort, turned back and through the glow of starshell, its captain, Commander E.G. Skinner, saw the Raccoon zig-zagging in search of the submarine. That was the last time anyone saw the little warship—a torpedo caused her boiler to explode and she sank in minutes.
A few days earlier near Matane, the Raccoon had seen two torpedoes cross its bows at perilously close range, but had escaped unscathed. Now, its luck ran out. At 1:12 a.m. on September 7, as the convoy passed Rivière-la-Madeleine, two loud explosions rent the night. Ships in company guessed they were hearing depth charges dropped by the Raccoon as it continued to pursue U-165. Only later was it discovered that the sounds were those of a German torpedo ripping through the converted yacht.
HMCS Raccoon and its entire crew of 37 were lost in an instant. One of those who perished was Supply Assistant John Sheflin. As his ship went down, a train sped through nearby Rivière-la-Madeleine carrying his wife Marguerite and two pre-school children. They had made a spur-of-the moment decision to move from Toronto to join family in Eureka, Nova Scotia, so that they could see Sheflin when he took his occasional shore leaves. It would be years before his family discovered just how close together they were, before tragedy tore them apart forever.
The next day, U-517 attacked the diminished convoy. Hartwig lay in wait just off Cap-Gaspé, as his prey slowly advanced towards him through fog and mist. Within short order, he sent three more merchant ships to the bottom. The Battle of the Gulf of St. Lawrence claimed the Greek registered ships Mount Pindus and Mount Taygetus. Two seamen perished in the first and five in the second. The Oakton, owned by the Gulf and Lake Navigation Company of Montreal, was Hartwig’s next target. His torpedo struck its engine room, killing an oiler and two firemen, then sending a cargo of coal destined for Corner Brook, Newfoundland, to the bottom. Lieutenant Bill Grant in Fairmile 083 rescued 17 survivors from the Oakton, along with 61 sailors from the two Greek vessels.
Isn’t that something?!? We had no idea the war came that close to our shores!
Back at home, Blaine dozed while I did blog work, after checking out how high, high tide is.
Then it rained and produced a beautiful rainbow!
